


Masks

by Not_You



Series: Masks And Other Stuff [1]
Category: Watchmen (Comic), Watchmen - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Alternate Universe - Theatre, Backrubs, Biting, Blair Roche Fix-it, Boxing & Fisticuffs, Child Abuse, Child Abuse (past), Crossdressing, Domestic Violence, F/F, F/M, Held Down, Hotel Sex, Improvised Sex Toys, M/M, Multi, Musicals, Pegging, Polyamory, Polyamory Negotiations, Recreational Drug Use, Rescue Missions, Scratching, Semi-Public Sex, Sex in a Car, Stalking, Theatre, Underage Drinking, Underage Sex, psychedelic drugs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-04
Updated: 2013-07-04
Packaged: 2017-12-10 08:16:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 45
Words: 80,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/783860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Not_You/pseuds/Not_You
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a massive goddamn high school AU that took me longer to write than high school took.  There is love and fluff for everyone, and it all began with a prompt for the Crimebusters in a production of Phantom of the Opera.  I made it a high school production, and followed the OT3 and everyone else through their adventures.  It's hard to summarize, save that everything works out all right.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Hollis Mason was a good man. He was kind to children, animals and strangers, and always did his best to help the helpless and defend the meek. Which is why he did not laugh when Walter Kovacs showed up to audition for the part of the Phantom. As a drama teacher with a soul and some intrinsic goodness, he could only mentally commend the child to God and hope that the poor, hoarse little thing could squeak and rasp his way through "Music of the Night" without actually hearing himself.

As Walter ascended the steps to the stage, Hollis glared sidelong at his T.A., his eyes as fierce as a bird of a prey's. Adrian was the best aide he'd ever had, but he was smug and had a tendency to mock sincerity that set Hollis's teeth on edge sometimes. For now, the kid dutifully shelved his smirk and sat up to pay attention. Despite the fact that Hollis could practically hear him thinking, he had to call it good enough and tell Walter to begin. He was heart-breakingly small, alone at center stage, and the crinkling as he arranged his music on the stand was deafening in the silence.

Hollis had leaned forward without realizing it, already pulling for him. He would admit to anyone who asked that he had a soft spot for Walter Kovacs, and it hurt him to think how bad this was probably going to be. Then the kid cleared his throat and began. Husky on the opening line, pitched far too low, his voice cracked and Hollis's heart sank, only to rise into his throat when Walter hit his stride on the second. Suddenly the huskiness was transmuted into something that sent chills up Hollis's spine, and the cracks were gone. Walter gave the song an almost cabaret-like flavor, and Hollis could suddenly imagine how the Serpent might have sounded when it spoke to Eve. The crescendos presented no problem, and on the phrase "touch me, trust me" he could feel Adrian twitch. He was grinning by the time Walter smouldered his way to a soft, whispery finish that would make an audience hold their breath to listen, because he knew he had found his Phantom.

Daniel Dreiberg was not an actor. He was a loyal and trustworthy light tech, creating some avant-garde and ethereally luminous effects of surprising beauty. He and Adrian had a strangely formal relationship that Hollis liked to watch, since they both took every production very seriously, but didn't quite trust each other, Adrian too beautiful and athletic to be regarded with anything but quiet awe by a kid like Dan, and Dan too much of a pushover for Adrian to really respect him. He captained the chess team and wore some of the worst glasses Hollis had ever seen. And his mother dressed him funny and he was too quiet and good to do anything about it. He lived in books and dreams, and ordinarily Hollis wouldn't have dreamed of forcing him out of the wings and into the spotlight.

That was before auditions had ended without a single decent prospect for Raoul. For the first time in his life, Hollis bitterly cursed Amnesty International. Adrian was president of the school's chapter, and was almost too immersed in a rush of benefit events to stage manage; he certainly couldn't play Raoul, despite having apparently been grown in a vat in some secret government lab for the express purpose of doing so.

He only found out about Dan by accident. Dan was that rare student that could be trusted after hours, so Hollis had gotten into the habit of letting him work as late as he wanted, provided his grades didn't suffer. They never did, so it was only because he had forgotten his keys that he went back in after leaving, to hear a soulful, achingly sweet rendition of "All I Ask of You" drifting down from the catwalks like manna from heaven. He listened to the end, and then quietly climbed up.

"Dan, you're playing Raoul."

"Mr. Mason, I can't! I'm not that good, and I can't act!"

"You're all we've got, son." He sat down beside him, and put an arm around his shoulders, disquieted to find him shivering. "It's you, or Eddie Blake." He pauses to let that sink in, and he can feel Dan's indignation rising at the thought of how horrible it would be to have someone that irresponsible and vicious at the center of any production.

"...I'll do it. It's gonna kill me, but I'll do it." He looks up over at Hollis, suddenly looking much younger than his years. "Try to find someone else, though. Please."

The problem with Christine was the exact converse of the Raoul dilemma. Everyone had jumped up at once, and Hollis was faced with a pile of girls that would all do a creditable job. The only qualifier that had narrowed the field even a little was to not take anyone over 5'7" unless she was really gifted, since Walter was 5'4" and the elevator shoes that he had accepted without complaint only gave him three inches. That still left him feeling glazed and abused, lurking in his office with his feet propped on the desk.

It was a relief when Sally came in, her heels clicking on the linoleum. She was his favorite P.T.A. mom and the girl of his dreams when both of them were twenty years too old for dreams.

"Hey, Sal. What can I do for you?"

"You can cast Laurie, you philistine." She perches on the edge of his desk and delicately prods his feet out of her way, smiling.

"Too tall, and she doesn't really want it."

"I know that, Hollis. But she's too good to let it go to waste. You know she's going to Julliard if we get half a chance, and a lead now can only help."

"Sally, she doesn't like the part. She's not gonna put her heart into it."

"Shirley Temple hated show biz."

He sighed, and gave up since he could never say no to Sally. Besides, he had seen the way Dan watched Laurie, and anything that would give him some verisimilitude was welcome.

In the end, Eddie did get cast, but in drag and using his class clown obnoxiousness to create the funniest Carlotta Hollis had ever seen. Jon Osterman unexpectedly volunteered to run the lights in Dan's place, and Hollis got the whole show cast within the allotted time by the skin of his teeth.

Naturally, the first few rehearsals were awkward and clunky. Dan couldn't look Laurie in the eye, and Walter, while perfectly friendly in his reserved way was obviously afraid to touch her, undercutting his vocal performance. This went on for an exasperatingly long time, and Hollis felt cruel for casting her opposite Dan. Until she asked Dan if she was really so bad to work with. Thrown into the role of reassuring her, Dan forgot about himself and started to sing almost as well as he did alone, the two of them building real chemistry. Hollis laughed to see so much of Sally in her as she deftly manipulated Dan into something like a romantic lead.

Walter was another matter. It was bad enough that the mask wasn't made yet and that they had to pantomime the scene where Christine tries to pull it off, but he was no help at all. He politely brushed Laurie off in a way that reminded Hollis of the patient, gentle way Dan deflected his mother's attempts to adjust his hair.

"Walter, you're angry. She's trying to expose your darkest secret. This is the reason you can't be together, and she's going to ruin everything by seeing it. You can't be so calm."

He really seemed to mean it each time he agreed and promised to work on it, but it wasn't until Laurie took him aside one night and told him that she wasn't breakable and that he could throw her a little if he wanted to that they made any progress. As usual with Walter, it was a massive dramatic epiphany. Hollis had always known he was angry kid, but their third run-through of the scene was still a shock.

"All right, Walter. Try to put some feeling into it, okay?"

"Yes, Mr. Mason."

Hollis sighed inwardly. "All right, go."

Laurie crept up behind him as softly as she always did, looking more like a panther than an ingenue, and stood behind him at the piano, letting her hands lightly rest on his shoulders. He tensed, which was a problem, but not their biggest one at present.

Adrian yawned, and murmured sotto voce, "And now, another episode of The Waltons."

"YOU LITTLE PRYING PANDORA!" Walter's psychotic roar made Hollis jump, and he stared as Walter grabbed Laurie's wrist and forced her onto her knees, looming remarkably well for someone so short. Laurie stared up at him, eyes wide in real fright, and Hollis called a halt. For a moment no one dared to breathe, and then Walter carefully helped Laurie up, perfectly calm.

"Sorry, was that too good?"

Laurie laughed breathlessly and impulsively hugged him, making him go slightly pink. "Man, I never want to get on your bad side, Walter!"


	2. Chapter 2

It was Laurie's idea to rehearse on their own, since she was the closest thing to a professional they had. Dan agreed without a second thought, ready to follow her anywhere. Walter got really quiet for a bit, but when Laurie said they'd do it at her house, he agreed. On a cold, sleety Saturday they followed Laurie to the train station, winding up at a suburban station within walking distance of her place.

They were all glad to get inside, and Laurie led them into the living room where her mother lounged on the couch with a drink, giving them a million-watt smile and holding up her languid hand for them to shake. Walter was uneasy, but relaxed a little when she was perfectly polite and apparently not drunk. Dan did his best not to stare, since Laurie took after her mother.

Introductions over, Laurie took them up to her room, very neat and obviously previously princess-themed. It was still pink and white, but with a more sophisticated and quirky aesthetic. A bra hanging over the door to the adjoining bathroom made Walter blush and look away, and Dan and Laurie shared a fond, exasperated look behind his back as she grabbed it and tucked it into a drawer.

"Your virtue is safe, Walter." He blushed, and Dan broke in to start their vocal warm-ups before she could tease him anymore. Dan and Walter had been sticking up for each other since freshman year, and he saw no reason to stop then. Especially since Laurie would take it so hard if she hurt Walter by accident.

With Dan to mediate, the rehearsal was a definite success. When they stayed until seven, Ms. Jupiter made them dinner and told stories about famous people over the frozen peas and Tuna Helper, making even Walter relax a little. Before they left, promising they would be safe on the walk to the station, they agreed to come back next week.

Since Walter never wanted to go home and with good reason, he stayed over at Dan's that night. When he asked Dan how you knew when you really liked a girl, his heart sank.

"Well, she's the prettiest girl in the world, even if she really isn't. And you'd do anything for her."

"Anything?"

"Remember when Janey dared me to jump off the roof in second grade? No way would I have done that for anyone else."

"Ended up with a broken arm anyway." He had been contemplating the ceiling, and turned his head on the spare mattress, studying Dan in the dark. "There isn't much I wouldn't do for you."

"I know, but that's... that's different, you know? I mean, if we liked each other like that, it would be queer."

"Definitely not queer."

"Me either." Dan said, only the guilt settling in his gut telling him he was lying.

Dan really thought that the worst part was not even being all the way queer. He was just nothing and everything, spinning wildly through the void and having dreams where Laurie and Walter did things to him he’d only read about. Usually at the same time, making him adrenalized and guilty when he was yanked out of it by weekday alarms, and languourus and dazed on weekends, when he slowly rose from sleep to lstroke himself for half an hour, coming in slow waves. Dan’s dream life had always been vivid and intensely real, so he dealt with better than Walter would have.

Walter would resolutely banish the thought of Dan’s mouth and Laurie’s soft hands and laughing eyes, only to have them emerge over and over from the mental whitenoise he used instead of images. He sometimes actually worked to picture a brick wall, each climax purely physical, sharp, sticky, and silent. Lately, this hadn’t been working, and he had once groaned audibly enough for his mother to yell “You’d better not be sick in there, you little shit! I’m not cleaning up after you!” He had started making a habit of biting his pillow, not trusting himself to be quiet on his own anymore. He was excellent at compartmentalizing, blocking enough ofit to survive rehearsal, helped by his mask.

The mask was the greatest gift anyone had ever given him, and he hadn’t even known it it until he had put it on and really become someone else. His performance that first day had scared Dan so badly that Hollis had had to remind him to be heroic and demand Christine’s freedom instead of whimpering. Walter was gothic and tormented, and his voice acquired an entirely new dimension of longing and menace. Dan and Laurie immediately followed him up to the same level of performance, too genuinely enthralled to do anything else.

Laurie was lucky to be playing a helpless, wide-eyed character, since she had never felt this kind of burning hunger for so long or so steadily. Christine’s damasked cheeks went so prettily from white to red and back again that Hollis actually took Laurie aside to make sure she wasn’t sick or on anything. Actually, she had seldom felt physically healthier, but the mental side of things was another story. She felt like a freak the first time she put anything up her ass, and the feeling only got stronger when her hairbrush and her hand mirror are both in her her beside drawer, along with lube and condoms filched from the clinic. She felt like a slut for wanting two guys at once, but rebelled against her own censure since her heart ached with how much she cared about them both.

The mask was the first costume piece to be made and worn, simply because it was so important. Adrian had taken an afternoon to coat Walter's face in Vaseline and actually make a mold to fit, but it wasn't until later that wardrobe really got going. Sally promised to provide something appropriately filmy for Laurie, and Adrian showed up with everything Walter needed, hanging it up in the dressing room without a word of explanation. When Hollis asked him why the hell he had a red-lined opera cloak, Adrian just smirked mysteriously. Walter turned out to know his way around a sewing machine and took it all in to fit, working with such patience and skill that even Hollis was surprised. He soon worked out to how to sweep menacingly around, and agreed readily to having his ginger hair painted black for performances.

If Dan had been as willing to go without his hideous and anachronistic glasses, Adrian would have had nothing to complain about but Eddie and his tendency to forget about his skirt and tear out the hem by stomping on it with the engineer boots he wore every day, or wandering into the parking lot and returning with the skirt six inches deep in mud and surrounded by a miasma of cigarette smoke. Their bickering was a continuous, soothing backdrop to the rehearsal process, and it was their sudden and ominous silence that let him know before even turning around to look that his worst fears about letting Sally dress her daughter had been completely justified. He did his best to not actually let his jaw drop as he wondered what in the hell she had been thinking.

Laurie's arms were crossed defensively over her chest, and Hollis didn't blame her since the white fabric was so sheer it probably showed color where it shouldn't. The light behind her silhouetted her through the skirt, and she looked furious. Eddie broke the silence with a wolf-whistle, and Laurie's face went red. Walter jumped on him instantly and with such ferocity that Eddie barely held him off, yelling "Jesus, fuck you if you can't take a joke!" Dan had been staring in a way that probably would have earned him a sharp "Eyes up here, Dan!" if not for Eddie, but snapped out of it to go grab Walter.

Hollis sighed. "Walter, calm down. Eddie, don't be a jerk." Coming from any other teacher in the building this wouldn't have had the slightest effect on either of them, so Hollis felt some real satisfaction as they broke away from each other, Dan putting an arm around Walter's narrow shoulders, muttering something the gist of which was almost certainly that no on had to die for Laurie's honor today. "Laurie, your mother's got style, but you're going to freeze to death in that. Go change and leave it for Adrian to fix."

She beamed at him in gratitude, calling, "Thanks, Mr. Mason!" as she ran backstage to come out almost instantly in jeans and a t-shirt, privately resolving not to say anything about this to her mother, who would be disgustingly proud of her.


	3. Chapter 3

"Nelly," Hollis said, "I really don't know what I'm going to do with them. I'm pretty sure that Raoul is falling for Christine offstage too."

"I think it's sweet." Nelly smiled over his coffee, the two of them lurking in the staff lounge during their shared free period.

"It would be if the Phantom stood half a chance." He sighed, slumping onto the couch. "I'm afraid the whole thing's gonna come true, and it's not like I can have a meeting with them and tell them to lay off."

"Really? I wouldn't even have thought Walter liked girls."

"I guess it takes one to know one, but he sure seems to like Laurie."

"Well, don't go borrowing trouble." Nelly smiled. "Neither of those boys could actually say anything to her about it if their lives depended on it, you'll be left with a nice, easy stalemate rather than open war, especially since Laurel is nobody's fool, and will probably at least wait until after the show to upset the entire cast's emotional equilibrium."

"You scare me sometimes, Gardner." 

The bell rang, and Nelly rolled his eyes, downing the rest of his coffee. "I wish I could scare the kids into caring about World War II."

"Bring something interesting in. Doesn't Rolf have an Iron Cross?"

Nelly snorted bitterly. "You think he'd trust me with it?" He sailed out the door, and Hollis sighed. You couldn't be in theatre without having gay friends, so the only thing he really minded about Nelly's boyfriend was his intermittent bouts of prickishness.

"I still don't get why we can't try Walter's place. He's gotta live somewhere." Laurie was sprawled over the seat on her side of the booth, her neglected milkshake slowly melting, a puddle of condensation under the glass. A termite infestation meant that her house was being fumigated and wouldn't be fit for human occupancy all weekend. The hotel suite she was sharing with her mother was no place to rehearse, and Dan's mother was sick and refused to have anyone over until she was well enough to really host. So Dan and Laurie were discussing it in the cheap, all-night diner that was the favored haunt of most of the theatre kids while they waited for Walter to get out of detention.

Dan sighed, rubbing at the red marks the nosepads of his glasses left on the bridge of his nose. "Laurie, I'll explain if you promise never to bring it up again, okay?"

"...Okay. What's the big secret?"

"Never tell Walter I told you this. He'd kill me."

"Dan, for Christ's sake--" Her voice was rising toward stridency, so Dan raised placating hands to cut her off.

"He spent about half his childhood in foster care." He sighed. "Because his mother was unfit, and she's still unfit, but he's old enough to look after himself now, so they let it be. I'm pretty sure she hooks to make the rent, and she drinks like a fish. He'd rather fucking die than have you see her."

"Woah." The expression of ardent, true sympathy on her face made him love her even more. "No wonder he's so tough."

"Yeah. He stays with me a lot."

Laurie smiled. "Are your parents as nice as you are, Dan?"

Walter felt only a sense of vindication, and annoyance at the inconvenience of his punishment. He wouldn't catch it at home, because his mother didn't care, and he wasn't the least bit ashamed of himself. Finally released, he headed to the diner and crept up so quietly that his friends both jumped when he cleared his throat to announce himself.

"Hey, we were wondering when you'd get out." Laurie sat up and patted the seat next to her. "You like strawberry? I can't finish this." He sat down and obediently started on the shake.

"What were you in for, anyway?"

"Fight."

"Dammit, you can't keep doing that, man. You're gonna get expelled."

"Called me the name, Dan." He daintily licked a few pink droplets from the rim of the glass, distracting Dan for a moment.

"Wha-- oh. Walter, you can't let it get to you to you like that."

"Why do I always feel I've come in on the second reel? What name?"

Dan shrugs helplessly. "It's really not mine to--"

"Rorschach." He finished the shake, the last of it crackling in the bottom of the glass. His next words reeled off as if by rote. "When I was ten, I hurt a guy real bad. They thought I was crazy and stuck me in the loony bin for a while. When I came back out, everyone had heard about it, and they started calling me Rorschach. You know. Like the inkblot test."

Dan could tell Laurie was going to ask him what he did and why, and shook his head slightly at her as Walter looked down at his hands. "Laurie's got termites, and they're gonna fumigate the place so we can't use it this weekend, and my mom's sick, so I don't know where we're going to go."

Walter looked at Dan, then to Laurie. The lack of disgust or pity on her face was too real even for her acting ability, and it felt like something in his chest was cracking, the sensation sharp but strangely pleasant. "Adrian's emancipated." He shrugged. "We could ask him."

Dan had known Adrian's parents were dead, (everybody knew, since they had been loaded enough for their tragic car crash to make the news) but he had always figured he had a guardian or something, not that he lived alone in an apartment that was quite frankly palatial. And mostly purple.

He smiled, leading them in. "If I'd known you were out a rehearsal space, I would have offered before you asked. I just don't like people to know I have my own place, since they'd start pestering me to throw parties."

"Makes sense." Laurie agreed, and then sank onto her knees in rapture. "Oh, aren't you the prettiest thing?" She cooed, as a massive cat padded up to her. Its fur was silky and plush, that rare, delicate shade of lilac grey, with a faint tabby pattern. It purred, rubbing against her knees and crawling happily into her lap to be adored, gold eyes shining.

"Meet Bubastis, the only other member of the household."

"She's beautiful." Laurie stood cautiously, with an armful of thunderously purring cat, and Adrian smiled at her in a way that set Walter's crooked yellow teeth on edge.

"She'll probably be in and out while you're working. I've got some letters to write, but the den is far enough away from my office that you won't bother me."

He was right, and Walter looked around in relief when he left them there. Laurie cuddled Bubastis and kissed her sleek head, then set her down on a plush armchair that was already covered in hair and must therefore be one of her favorite spots, and pulled out her script.

Walter was tense and accordingly wooden until they got him moving, Laurie wishing they could have brought his mask. Dan was nervous because he could feel the tension radiating from Walter, and Laurie was getting sick of them both as they went through 'All I Ask of You' for the third time. When Dan cracked on a note she knew he could reach perfectly well, she actually stamped her foot in disgust. They both stared at her guiltily.

"All right, just stop. Dan, you're supposed to be in love with me and you sound like I'm an axe murderer forcing you into a duet for my own sick amusement. Walter, you sound more irritated than betrayed." She threw herself onto the couch. "Christine has left the building until you two get over it."

Dan sighed, and sat down on the arm of the couch. "I'm sorry."

Walter just growled and paced for a few moments. "Me too." He finally said, stopping in front of her. 

She sat up and smiled. "Good. Because you're the only reason we're any good, so if you go, we all do."

"You're good with or without us, Laurie." Dan nervously adjusted his glasses as he spoke. Walter nodded sagely, and she found herself leaping up to defend them against themselves until they were both red to the tips of their ears.

Sally wasn't exactly shocked when Laurie opted to join her in a nightcap. There was obviously something on the kid's mind, so Sally leaned against the counter and sipped her scotch while she waited for her to speak. Laurie stared down into the chocolate milk and Bailey's she had been allowed since last year, her bangs hanging in her eyes. She was getting tall, and Sally reminded herself to get the kid some miniskirts to let her legs tan. She got to the bottom of her drink in silence, and was afraid she'd have to make another one to give Laurie enough time to speak.

"Mom?" She looked up, her face serious. "What would you call a girl with two boyfriends?"

She had to laugh at a question so completely out of left field. "I dunno, lucky?" She shrugged, half-melted ice chinking against the glass.

"Mother!"

"Well, it all depends." She fixed herself a second drink, and sat down at the table with her daughter.

"On what?"

"Well, on what sort of guys they are for one thing, and whether or not they know about each other." She takes a sip. "A girl who's leading two guys on is a real bitch, especially if they're both really crazy about her."

"What if she really loves them both?"

"Oh sweetie, that's just agony." She shook her head. "No, the only way I've ever seen it be a good thing was when everyone involved had the whole story, and even then men are jealous."

"Always?"

"Pretty much." She sighed. "Unless they're just as interested in each other as they are in the girl, in which case she has to watch out that they're not just faggots using her to make themselves feel better."

"...Oh."

She smiled. "You see everything in Hollywood, kiddo." She stood and kissed the top of her daughter's head. "Growing girls and old ladies both need their sleep, so finish your drink and go to bed, all right?"

Having received an affirmative and a peck on the cheek, Sally went up to her room and went to bed. She didn't ask Laurie what had brought the question on, because if she hadn't told her, she didn't want her to know. Since relentless surveillance had been one of the many reasons Sally had turned sixteen and booked it as fast as she could, she let Laurie keep her on a need to know basis.


	4. Chapter 4

"All right, Dan. Glasses off." Adrian held out his hand for them. "We have the blocking down well enough that you don't need them anymore, and you know you can't wear them for performances."

Dan stared helplessly at him, and then sighed, pulling them off. He blinked owlishly at the world, good bone structure finally freed from hornrims. Eddie grinned. "Why Miss Jones, you're beautiful."

Dan flushed. "Aw, shut up, Eddie." He rubbed his eyes and ran his hands through his hair. "Guys, I'm gonna kill myself this way. I'm half a step from legally blind."

After Dan went on to pitch headfirst into the orchestra pit and only save himself from serious injury by tucking and rolling like some kind of action hero to come to rest panting and wide-eyed against the wall, it was generally agreed upon that he should get contacts. After Laurie was done yelling at Adrian and Hollis had made sure he didn't need to call anyone.

Walter was the only one in opposition, and had to cite some scare-mongering article about their manifold hazards to cover the vehemence of his objection. Really, the only time Dan ever took his glasses off was to sleep, and Walter was the only one allowed to see him that way. That night, parked again on the spare mattress in Dan's room, he looked over at him. Light from a streetlamp fell through the curtains and illuminated his face, and since no one could hear Walter thinking, he could call it beautiful. Freed from his waking expression of worried deference, Dan was almost too beautiful to look at, and Walter took it in shifts so he wouldn't actually crawl over and touch his lips to find out if they were as soft as they looked, or nuzzle into the crook of his neck to breathe that soft musk that meant home more than any other smell. Feeling the longing crawl over his skin again, he resolutely stared up at the shadows on the ceiling.

He sighed and thought of his journal, sealed in a plastic bag and carefully tucked behind the fixtures in the toilet tank at home. As an additional precaution, given the good odds of his mother's "friends" ransacking the house for money or drugs and the filthy inventiveness of the scum she knew, the entire thing was written in an elaborate cipher. The lines coiled and wriggled like Arabic, and hid everything he had written about first about Dan and now about Laurie as well. He found it appropriate that 'Daniel' meant 'God's Judgment', since lately he was sure that Dan had been made so beautiful and so good to punish him. He groaned, and rolled over to bury his face in the pillow, thinking that between Daniel and the story of Apollo, Daphne and the laurel tree, all of western culture was out to get him.

"Seriously, just a backrub." Laurie had the sudden and unpleasant idea that she knew exactly how boys felt as she coaxed Walter into letting her touch him. They were alone in her room, which she supposed was already making him edgy. Dan was off at someone's Bar Mitzvah, and his absence had changed the tone of their usual delicate tension into something actually strained. Walter's intensity and brilliance stopped whenever she had cause to touch him for more than a moment, so their scene by the piano was flat until he summoned up his rage in response to her attempt to pull off the mask, and its frightening naturalness only highlighted how wooden the preceding tranquility was. "You have to get used to being touched if we want this show to be any good."

He sighed, and then nodded, finally sitting on the edge of the bed and staring at the opposite wall, trying not to feel her body heat behind him. He flinched when her hands landed on his shoulders, sensitized by their discussion. He knew he couldn't tell Laurie that he tensed up because he liked it too much when she touched him, so he concentrated on a faint stain from a leak in the roof and forced himself to relax.

Laurie swallowed, and started gently working his shoulders loose. She had heard the phrase 'pony-built' applied to someone before, and thought its definition of 'undersized, but with muscles like a horse' was beautifully illustrated here. It was like stroking a beautiful, skittish animal that might hurt her if it got frightened, and she kept her touch gentle and firm, slowly working out all the knots in his muscles. She had done this for her mother from a very young age, her shoulders, and her feet after a night in heels. She had gotten very good at it, and it wasn't long before he was leaning back into her touch. She smiled, moving to work his lower back and doing her best to cover her exasperation when he tensed again. She stayed there until he had to accept it, doing her best not to let her hands shake.

"Tip your head forward."

"Why?" He asked as he obeyed.

"So I can get your neck, Walter. This stuff goes up all the way up to your head. If I didn't already know you worry too much, I'd be surprised." She keeps her tone as light as she can, and does her best not to look at the defenseless nape of his neck because she wants so desperately to kiss it.

In the end, it took a boxing lesson for Walter to really feel physically comfortable with her. It was funny to see someone who felt better about a girl's misaimed fist in his eye than her open hands on his shoulders, but it broke her heart at the same time. Her mother always said that people could get used to anything, and it looked like all Walter was used to was getting hit. That and Dan's friendly arm around his shoulders, but he had started to push even that away as opening night came closer, lending something truly heartrending to Raoul's 'have you no pity?'.

Walter was as reservedly friendly as he had ever been, and just as loyal, but physical contact had been suddenly and unequivocally nixed. Dan's confusion hurt to watch. He wasn't even angry, just deeply sad. He still brought his best to the show, but the dull, constant pain in his eyes brought an answering one in her chest, and a flood of anger at Walter for hurting him that way.

Dan could only assume two possibilities, each as bad as the other: either Walter had somehow found out about him, or liked Laurie just as much as he did. When the Phantom caught Raoul in his noose, Dan's heart beat so loud that he was sure Walter must have heard it. If he didn't know what it meant, he might just as easily have heard how much he really meant 'anywhere you go, let me go too'. Whenever he tried to think about it, his head spun. Walter must be disgusted or jealous, and there was no way to know which. He left their last dress-rehearsal with a heavy heart and with Laurie beside him. Walter was moving to follow, finally out of his Phantom makeup, when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Son, what's wrong?" Hollis stood beside him. Walter's ears were good, so he had heard the last few rubber-soled steps, and wondered if this was why Mr. Mason always work sneakers.

"What do you mean?" He asked, looking up at him. After a moment, he had to look away, and very docilely accepted Hollis's offer of coffee and a ride home.

Walter stared into his mug of cocoa and spilled his guts.

"Well, that's a real problem." Hollis sipped his coffee. "But the first thing you ought to know is that you're pretty normal."

"I am?"

"Sure, kiddo. What d'you think 'bisexual' means? You'd be in the same boat if Dan was a girl, wouldn't you?"

Walter paused, and thought about that for a moment. Dan had shed most of his baby fat and was rapidly gaining muscle and height, but he retained a comforting thickness and solidity that Walter supposed would be analogous to someone soft, strong, and deeply curved, with an even lusher mouth and gentler hands. The tips of his ears went red, and he nodded. "Yessir." He took a scalding swig of cocoa.

Laurie and Dan had stopped for their own version of the same conversation. Where Walter's ended with a resolute march into the night from the coffee shop, Laurie and Dan's ended in the park, under a spreading oak tree. She whimpered into his mouth as he pressed her against the rough bark, his hands trembling on her waist. He kissed her deeply, but didn't slobber all over her like some boys did. He was graceful and intent, growling deep in his chest without realizing it.

She twined her arms around his neck and pulled him closer, moaning softly to feel him hard and hot against her leg. The thing she couldn't believe was that they had talked about Walter, and that Dan seemed to understand completely. Dan swore she had given him his first kiss about a minute before, and she was really having a hard time believing him. She was aching and wet, but she still heard the bushes rustle without a breath of air, and held Dan back to look. He obeyed her wordless instructions without thought, and just had time to see a flash of ginger hair and someone who ran just like Walter Kovacs vanish at his jackrabbit speed.

"...Damn it all to hell." He was miserable.

"Come on, we have to find him."


	5. Chapter 5

Walter changed rapidly, and with hands that shook. He couldn't meet his eyes in the dressing room mirror, and did his best to ignore everyone around him as well. Dan and Laurie were fine. They were normal, they had each other, and they were fine. The best thing he could do would be to keep away from them both, and he just wished he didn't have to take off his mask. It made everything easier to deal with, and he set it on the shelf reluctantly but resolutely. He had no time to waste, and crept out quickly and quietly, intending to find some shadows to vanish into. 

It would have worked, too, if not for Dan. He was lying in wait, his eyes intent and almost glowing. He grabbed Walter with the elan of a professional kidnapper, lifting him off the ground as he struggled. "No more fucking around, Walter." He snarled. "We have to talk."

Suddenly sure that he had been found out, Walter trembled miserably. "Going away, Dan. Won't bother you anymore."

"Walter, it's not-- Christ, just come with me to the car." He ran a hand through his hair. "I have no idea what you're thinking, but I'm not angry with you, all right?" Walter nodded, and Dan set him down, putting an arm around his shoulders and steering him out to the parking lot.

Whatever else anyone could say about Dan's car, it had personality. It had apparently begun life as a station wagon, but between Dan's loving hands and the local junkyards it had become something completely other. All Laurie knew for sure was that the tiny stuffed owl hanging from the rearview was the most ridiculous, hopeless, and adorable thing in the world. She was lounging in the shotgun seat, wearing her coat over her costume, and she sat up when she saw Dan and Walter coming.

Dan shoved Walter ahead of him, climbing into the back, where the rear seats were folded down, leaving free space. He looked exasperated and nervous. Walter's face was utterly blank. She turned to kneel on the seat, looking over the back of it at them. "Hey, Walter. We've been looking for you."

He swallowed hard. "Happy for you both."

"Walter..." Dan reached out to him and faltered halfway. "Walter, which of us do you want?" He went deep red as he spoke. "I mean, I'm assuming it's Laurie but that's actually all right if--" Walter was silent, staring past them both. He was so still and remote that Dan really had no choice but to kiss him, quick, clumsy and soft. He had no idea what to do with his hands and was expecting Walter to deck him, not to whine and kiss back, too hard and too much like a bite, his shaking hands winding into Dan's hair. Laurie watched, shivering as Dan moaned softly.

"Both." Walter growled when they broke to breathe, wanting to get the confession over with. "Want you both." Dan laughed in real joy and giddy relief, tumbling Walter onto his back with the ease of their roughhousing before any of this had started. Laurie crawled between the seats to join them, lying on the other side of Walter and gently turning his face to hers. His eyes were wide and frightened, and she stroked his cheek lightly before she kissed him. He didn't dare bite her, and she melted him slowly, taking her time about coaxing his mouth open, one hand resting lightly over his hammering heart.

In the end, Dan was the one sensible enough to point out that they ought to go somewhere else. As an inveterate bird-watcher, he was able to drive out into the hills to the kind of nice, quiet spot that three hundred other couples weren't necking at. Not that they were a couple, Dan thought fondly as he stopped the car. Laurie and Walter were still in the back, curled up on their sides. Laurie was on the outside, wrapped protectively around Walter, slowly licking the back of his neck. She had been doing it the same tortuous way for most of the trip, and Walter's desperate, strained little whimpers had been driving him crazy. His head was tipped as far forward as it would go, his chin on his chest as one hand gripped his own hair, apparently trying to hold himself together. Dan flipped up the parking brake and crawled to join them. Closer, he could see that Laurie had Walter's other arm pinned. He gently untangled Walter's fingers from his hair, lacing them with his. Walter nearly crushed his hand, and made a soft, sobbing sound, kissing him deeply, straining a little against Laurie's grip. Dan shuddered, moving with him. He was gentler now, at least some of Laurie's lesson sticking. She bit his shoulder, and the way his hips jerked as if they were directly connected made Dan moan quietly. Just as Walter started to really struggle, Laurie let go of his arm, which snaked around Dan's neck almost too fast to see, pulling him close. 

Laurie purred, biting him again and sliding her hands under his shirt to dig her nails into skin that's much smoother than she would have thought. Walter whines, and presses his face to Dan's chest, biting his sweatshirt to keep quiet, shaking all over as Laurie slides down to trail kisses up his spine.

Laurie had never heard of a boy making the "I'll blow you but I won't put out" compromise, but now she was convinced that it was the greatest thing since sliced bread. Walter had balked at any attempt to touch him below the waist, except for the firm, familiar grip on his ass that Dan was already using when he kissed him, so they had coaxed him to jerk off while they kissed him and each other, hands in a friendly tangle over his chest. Listening to him growling, whining and trying not to make a sound had made her wet enough to drip, and now she was flat on her back, her legs loosely wrapped over his shoulders as he purred softly, his tongue rolling her clit in a way that made her cry out with every movement, thighs flexing beside his neck as she tried and failed not to grind against him a little. She couldn't believe he had agreed to this. Came up with the idea himself, even. He had nuzzled up the inside of her leg like it was the most natural thing in the world and gotten to work.

Dan was off to one side, watching. Laurie could feel his eyes on them, and looked over to see the helpless look in them. She knew a tactical nuke could have gone off and he wouldn't even have looked around, and the thought made her want to giggle. But Walter and Dan were taking everything so seriously that she was sure that would be mean, so she just held out her arms to Dan, dragging him in to knead her breasts, sucking her nipples in turn, making almost the same purring sound as Walter. She stroked Dan's hair, tugging it sharply when Rorschach slid two fingers into her, making her buck her hips and cry out.

"Good?" Walter asked, trying not to sound anxious.

"Yes." She gasped. "Did I say you could stop?" She reached down and hauled him back into place, shivering when Dan whimpered in response.

Dan was glad he had endured the drive to get to where they were. Usually when a pair of guys took a girl somewhere where she could yell all she wanted and no one would hear her, it was a bad thing. Dan decided that in their case, it was a very good thing. A fantastic and beautiful thing, because he didn't know the word for the sound Laurie made when she came, but it was loud and sweet and he felt like it would have killed something in him to have to muffle it. She clasped Walter's head between her thighs, apparently knowing that he was going to panic when she hollered like that. Her grip reassured him that he was welcome, so he stayed obediently until she let him go, melting lazily back with a grin on her face.

Walter sat up, trembling and wearing the tight, almost angry expression that meant he was so hard it hurt. Precome had soaked through his ragged, dingy boxers, and he was panting softly. His eyes were closed, long lashes trembling against his cheekbones. Laurie had one moment to think that she would kill for eyelashes like that herself, and then Dan grabbed him and pulled him into a messy kiss, whimpering as he licked Laurie's wetness from Walter's mouth and slid a hand over his chest, lightly pinching his nipple. Walter groaned and wriggled, biting Dan's lip. It had been Laurie's idea to touch him there at all, and she had been intrigued to find him about as sensitive as she was. Now Dan was deftly working one and then the other as Walter hid his face in Dan's neck and whimpered, hips bucking.

He went on that way for so long that she was on the verge of telling him not to be such a tease when he pulled Walter into his lap, leaning back against the wall and biting his neck hard. He wailed, and tilted his head back onto Dan's shoulder, clutching weakly at his arms. Laurie watched as Dan gently pulled the waistband of Walter's boxers down, murmuring softly in his ear all the while. The touch of his own shaking hand made Walter cry out, but he froze when Dan's hand slid down his forearm.

"Ssshh. It's okay. I'm not even really touching you, just following your hand." Dan wrapped his hand loosely over Walter's. "You're the only one moving."

Walter whined and started again, rapidly speeding up. "D-dan?"

"Yeah?" He whispered, nibbling lightly on his ear.

He whimpered, turning to face him, and the look of overjoyed shock on Dan's face as he wrapped his hands around them both burned itself into Laurie's memory. He stared into Dan's eyes as if nothing in the world had ever been more important, and Dan whined, pulling Walter in so their foreheads rested against each other. It took them about five seconds to come, but Laurie couldn't blame them one bit.


	6. Chapter 6

"They're fucking."

"Who, Dreiberg and Rorschach?"

"Yes, actually." Adrian murmured, watching Dan and Walter work together to repair part of the set.

Eddie spewed a swig of water onto the floor. "Seriously?!" He had learned never to doubt Adrian's pronouncements upon who was screwing whom, simply because the vicious little faggot was always right.

"And Laurie, unless I miss my guess." He checked his perfect manicure, smiling like that damned weird cat of his.

"You have got to be shitting me. Rorschach? I can buy fuckin' owl-boy over there being that desperate, but not Laurie."

"You just have to allow for a different paradigm, Eddie. While Walter may lack in graces, physiognomy, and physique (not that last quite so much), he is proof that chivalry is not dead."

Eddie snorted. "Would you fuck him?"

Adrian glanced up from his script, filled with a thousand annotations. "Me? Oh, absolutely." And before Eddie had a chance to say anything to that, Adrian strode off, calling for everyone to get dressed since they were running late.

"Fuck."

"What confounds you so, sweet Carlotta?" And because it was Hollis, that didn't merit a punch in the face.

"I don't know if Adrian just came out to me or if he's pulling my leg."

"Adrian?" Hollis blinked. "Jesus, Eddie. What do you think?"

The run was a complete success, and Laurie wasn't even embarrassed at the way her mother whistled and whooped every time she showed up, because for once she felt it was warranted. Dan's parents were more restrained, but obviously just as proud. No family ever came for Eddie or Walter, and everyone was kind enough not to mention it, which made it more of a surprise on closing night, when they came wandering out in their street clothes on closing night to find an unknown little dishwater blonde woman waiting for them. She looked like she felt like she should apologize for taking up what little space she did, and her wrist was wrapped as if she had sprained it, but she grinned all over her face when she saw Eddie.

"Ma!" They hadn't looked anything alike until Eddie's face had split in an answering grin, and then she was obviously his mother. He hugged her tightly, lifting her about an inch of the ground as she laughed.

"I can't believe you didn't tell me about this! You were funny as hell." She beamed, ruffling his hair. "My little comedian."

He was too glad to see her to tell her to lay off, and the others weren't cruel enough to say a word. He hung back to talk to her as the rest of them made their way to the parking lot, and came jogging to catch up with them, still radiant. The cast party was at Adrian's, and he was too delighted to really notice he was riding with the host until it was too late.

Adrian glanced over at him and smiled softly. "You've got some lipstick on your cheek."

Eddie flipped down his sun visor, utterly unsurprised to see a mirror (bordered with lights, no less) on the other side. And sure enough, a smudge of his mother's Valentine Pink lipstick on his cheek. He hated to rub it out, and scrubbed hard with the back of his hand. No matter where Eddie Blake went later in life, or how hard a reputation he had, two things would always soften him up: Valentine Pink and L'Air du Temps, his mother's favorites.

"Why didn't you tell her?"

"I was afraid it would get back to my old man and he'd kick my ass for acting like a faggot." He licked the tips of his first two fingers, using the spit to eradicate the last traces of pink.

"...How did she hurt her wrist, Eddie?" Adrian murmured, watching the road.

"How the fuck do you think she hurt it, faggot? She "fell"."

"I was afraid of that."

"Look, she won't let me call the cops on his ass, and I protect her when I can, okay? It used to be worse." Adrian nodded, for once in his life looking genuinely sympathetic. "I don't even know how she found out." His voice was soft and wondering.

"It's the kind of thing mothers do."

Eddie reached out and snapped the radio on, feeling close to doing something horribly embarrassing. Soft classical music filled the car, and he leaned back, feeling slightly less tense and reflecting upon how nice it was that Adrian didn't always act like a girl. Then, he had the sense to shut the hell up, and their silence become almost comfortable. He didn't speak until he reached their destination and turned off the car. "If she ever wises up, mi casa su casa. For now, I know you like Southern Comfort."

Eddie did like Southern Comfort. He found a full bottle and spent the evening carrying it around like a teddy bear, wandering around and keeping everyone laughing. Adrian started to worry at around three am, when almost everyone else had left. Mostly because he couldn't find Eddie. Adrian firmly believed that it was only when things got quiet that one should worry.

Walter, Daniel, and Laurie seemed to have found themselves a couch, the three of them forming a happy pile that confirmed his suspicions and warmed the cockles of his black, cynical heart. Walter was snuggled in between them, half-bombed on Jaeger and giggling softly as he played with the ends of Laurie's hair and Dan nibbled at the fingers of his free hand. Adrian was sure they'd be all right, and traced the probable movements of a drunk and troubled Eddie Blake out to the balcony.

He was standing at the railing, stroking Bubastis with one heavy hand, the other holding a cigarette. The bottle was on the floor by his feet, and Adrian knew without looking that it was empty.

"Hey."

He looked over his shoulder. "Look, I went to the goddamn balcony to smoke, so you can just--"

He smiled. "It's fine, Eddie."

"Dunno why I smoke these fuckin' things anyway." He stubbed it out and rubbed his face. "Aw, God. Aw, fuckin' God."

"Eddie?" He padded up to him silently. Eddie wouldn't have been surprised to see the silk slippers on his feet, but he was too busy trying not to cry. He felt like it would kill him if he did, and he tipped his head back, blinking hard.

"My old man smokes." His voice cracked. He flicked the butt away, voice rising slightly as he did his best to be funny, missing badly. "Sonofabitch stubs the fuckers out on my arm, and I take them up myself." He laughed, the sound quickly turning into sobbing as he buried his face in his hands again. "Jesus. How fucked up does a guy gotta be?"

"Where?" Adrian asked, and Eddie was suddenly aware of how close he was. He didn't look around, reaching to roll up the sleeve of his t-shirt. It was faint, but there. A perfect, puckered circle, a dark, tannish-pink. A painful color, and Adrian pressed his lips to it, closing his eyes and resting there, breathing quietly through his nose. Eddie tasted faintly of salt, warm and starting to tremble as Adrian didn't pull away.

"Adrian?" His voice was so small he almost didn't hear it. "What the hell are you doing?"

"I'm not sure." He whispered, kissing the scar again. "I'll stop if you want."

"...It's okay." He reached across to stroke Adrian's hair in the same slow, absent way, and Adrian purred, kissing the side of his neck and making him shudder, closing his eyes. "Your lips are so fucking soft." He breathed, "What the hell."

Adrian enjoyed being able to look his reflection in its crystal blue eyes every morning over the bathroom sink. To make sure that state of affairs continued, he left Eddie's torn jeans on, and changed into his silk pajamas (which were purple and made Eddie laugh until he cried again), so that when he woke up wrapped him, his face pressed to the nape of his neck, he could bask in the knowledge that he hadn't taken advantage of someone that drunk. And in the warm weight of him in his arms. He wondered how long Eddie had been that built, and realized that he couldn't quite pinpoint the transition. As it was, he purred and gave him a squeeze, hands lightly stroking the hair on his chest.

Eddie twitched, snorted, and spoke, "Wha-- woah. Woah, woah, what the fuck, what the fuck!" He sat bolt upright. "Christ, Adrian!"

"Good afternoon to you, too."

"What the hell, man? What am I doing here? Did you--"

"Eddie, your lack of trust is appalling. Note the location of your pants: on you, not the floor. Observe my ludicrous purple pajamas."

"Yeah, but-- why?!"

"Oh, why are you here?"

"Yeah."

"You're here because we had a tender moment out on the balcony-- never fear, my cat is the only witness and she's not talking-- and so you came back here with me."

Eddie groaned. "Fuck, did I get wasted on SoCo and talk about my mother?"

"That's a partial description of your actions, yes."

"A full one?"

"Nothing went below the waist. And you tried, too."

Eddie groaned again, remembering. It was horrible, since he felt like a total fucking girl because what he had really liked was how gentle Adrian was. The bastard had covered his chest in soft kisses, and actually sucked his nipples and Jesus, he had fucking whimpered. "Oh god, I'm a fag." He buried his hands in his hair, cradling his aching head. "You made me a fucking faggot, Adrian!"

"Maybe half of one, anyway." He said acidly. "Stop whining. Nothing went below the waist. Except for you, for about five seconds. Do you remember?"

Eddie sat up, having now settled into a constant and dismal moan. He did remember. He had fucking reached into those goddamned stupid pajamas and moaned when he got his hands on Adrian's cock, the skin so much softer and smoother than silk. "Oh, shit!"

Adrian rolled his eyes and hopped up. "I'm not going to blackmail you. How do you like your eggs?"

"...Soft-boiled." He muttered, his face pressed to his knees.


	7. Chapter 7

Walter blinked, not quite sure where he was. He had a headache, and it felt like it would hurt to sit up, so he rolled over instead, landing face-first in Laurie’s chest and making her giggle.

“Good morning, Starshine. The earth says hello.” He groaned quietly, burrowing in and wrapping an arm and a leg over her, making a soft, happy noise when all light was blocked and the world was filled with Laurie’s scent. She smiled, stroking his hair. “Hey, cutie.” She murmured. “Feeling all right?”

“Headache.” He muttered.

“Aw. Nausea?”

“No.”

“Good. We’re at Adrian’s, in case you forgot.”

“Mmm. Dan?”

“Showering.”

“…Breakfast?”

“If you can get up, we can go check.” He nodded, and marshalled the strength to sit up. He was in yesterday’s underwear and had ‘OPERA GHOST’ written on his stomach in black marker that had bled a little onto his undershirt.

“Who wrote on me?” 

“That was Ursula.”

“Hurm.” He spat on his hand and rubbed at it, and Laurie rolled her eyes.

“Jesus, take a shower.” She tossed her hair and hopped up, wrapped in a borrowed silk kimono. It was lavender brocade, and he looked at it, barely raising an anxious eyebrow.

“Walter, Adrian lent me something to sleep in. Do you have a problem?”

“…Maybe.”

“What? Christ, he’s gay.”

“Don’t think so. Think he likes you.”

“Well, I don’t care if he does.” She frowned at him. “Jesus, Walter. Do you think I would?”

“…I look like this. He’s Adrian.” He shrugged his freckled shoulders.

“…Don’t be a girl, Walter. If I wanted him, I would have asked him.” She tipped his chin up and kissed him until he couldn’t breathe. “Now go take a shower, and I’ll find us something to eat.”

He stumbled into the bathroom, scaring Dan half to death before he made a few distinctively Walter noises as he hauled his underwear off.

"Oh, it's you. Jeez." Walter climbed over the side of the tub without a word, and sat at Dan's feet, resting back against the wall and letting the hot water batter him. Dan blinked down at him, and knelt. "You okay?"

"Slightly hungover."

Dan grinned. "I thought that might be a bit too much Jaeger for your tiny frame."

"Hah. Like you weren't wasted."

"Yeah, but on vodka. The clearer it is the less likely you are to be hungover the next day." He kissed Walter's cheek, and nuzzled the side of his neck, shivering when he brought one hand up to wind into Dan's hair. "God." He murmured, his voice suddenly soft and shy.

"Hm?"

"I love being allowed to touch you like this." He whispered, running his tongue around the edge of Walter's ear and making him shiver. "I mean, the first time I saw you, I was..." He frowned, unable to find the words. "You scared me, but I had to be close to you. I didn't even know I felt like this, but it didn't matter." He whispered, his hands sliding down Walter's sides, feeling how his breath quickened as Dan's hands came to rest at his hips, his thumbs stroking the hollows beside the jutting bones. They were both always hard in the morning (even when morning was afternoon) and then was no exception. Walter whimpered quietly, wrapping his arms around Dan's neck, unable to speak through the tightness in his throat. He kissed him instead of even trying to explain what it had been like to have someone be so kind to Rorschach, obvious damaged goods in his charity coat and self-cut hair.

Dan whined and lined up against him, gently rocking in the steam. Walter was glad he was solid enough to hang onto, everything hot and wet and dreamlike. He clung to Daniel and moaned into his mouth, pressing up against him. When they were with Laurie they tried to last, mostly so she wouldn't laugh at them for being hair-trigger goddamned boys, but with each other it was all right if it only took five minutes. It was a nice five minutes, and it wasn't as if they couldn't do it again. And again, because at Adrian's it took forever to outlast the hot water.

Breakfast was congenial for everyone except Eddie, who got up when the others came in and went to find his shirt, feeling his small collection of nearly invisible scars as if they were all fresh. Three cigarette burns, up where a t-shirt could hide them. Two on the right, one on the left. The mark on his hip that fanned up over the waist of his jeans, ancient but still paler than the skin around it. It was actually sort of pretty. It had come from flying into a broken table the first time he had tried to bail his ma out. He had been a dumb little bastard, but how smart can you really expect a six-year-old to be? Besides that there were a few little ones, scattered over his back from times when an old-school switching had drawn blood.

Eddie didn't actually give a shit about them. Not really. He'd been with what he considered a respectable (others had said 'excessive') number of girls, none of whom had really seemed to notice, except for sweet little Nina who played flute and hadn't really known what to say. Now though, they all burned and he didn't know why. Probably because fucking Adrian had kissed them like he already knew what each one was and was sorrier than if it had happened to himself. He snarled, yanking his shirt on over his head and sauntering back downstairs with a cigarette behind one ear. He yelled something affectionately derogatory and completely serious at Adrian, grabbed the his jacket from the hall, and went out. Having caught a ride with Adrian the night before, it was fucking miles to the nearest bus stop and way more than that to home, but what the hell. He had nothing to do but walk, well-fed and wrapped in comfortable armor, so he lit his smoke and rambled on like a black-coated dog, thinking of nothing.

Hollis noticed when Eddie didn't show up for strike, and frowned, since it was usually his favorite part of any production in which he was involved. Tearing things apart was just his speed, and even carefully unscrewing things and watching them collapse was fun, but Hollis supposed he understood if the kid felt like he couldn't leave his mother. Mrs. Blake showed up to every conference she could, always looking to do the best she could for her son, and she broke his heart every time with her sunglasses on cloudy days and long sleeves on hot ones. If she had been a student, he could have reported her over her most vociferous objections, could have forced someone to do something about it. As it was, he was patient and gentle with her, and always gave the kid a chance. He supposed this policy was why he was one of the staff members who could actually get Eddie to stop doing anything he had put his mind to. Catching Adrian's eye, he waved him over to ask.

"He elected to walk home today. He's probably just gotten there."

"Any reason he'd do that, Adrian?"

And of course, Adrian had looked him right in the face and lied. The worst part was that Adrian always knew that Hollis knew that he knew that he was lying. The kid was complicated like that. Obviously, something weird had happened at the cast party, and he could only hope that Eddie wasn't gonna be more of a mess than usual as a result. He sighed, but was cheered to see Walter looking more relaxed than he had ever seen him, moving with the beautiful ease he usually only had behind a mask. He and Dan and Laurie were all glowing, and as he watched them, he raised an eyebrow and realized that he must be getting old.


	8. Chapter 8

"No, we can't do _Les Mis_."  
  
"Why not? You know Walter would _own_ Javert."  
  
"I know, but too many whores. For a high school production, _Phantom_ is pushing it far enough."  
  
Adrian made a catlike noise of disgust. "Mr. Mason, I can't stand anymore Rodgers and Hammerstein. Besides, if we break down and do _Oklahoma!_ , our credibility is shot."  
  
Hollis smiled slightly. "Why not go the other way? Post-apocolyptic, cyberpunk _Wizard of Oz_ , go."  
  
Adrian laughed, his eyes sparkling in a way that meant he was already designing the entire production in his head. The kid had a gift, and Hollis had a feeling that he would go pretty far, if he put his mind to it. "Yes, I think I can live with that." Next year would be Adrian's senior year, and Hollis suddenly realized how much he was going to miss him.  
  
"...You know what?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"If you really want _Les Mis_ , I'll fight for it. I figure I owe it you, for all the paperwork."  
  
"...Seriously?"  
  
"Seriously. You're the best aide I've ever had. And I like _Les Mis_ , dammit."  
  
Adrian grinned. "If we lose, _Oz_ would still be fun."  
  
"Yeah." He yawned and stretched, shuffling a pile of scripts and librettos on the desk between them. They did a musical every spring, after a Shakespeare production in the fall. They had quickly decided that after Hollis's studious avoidance of it for the past decade, that it was about time to pull _Romeo and Juliette_ out and dust it off again. It had taken them another two hours to pick a musical, and Hollis's coffee had gotten cold. He took a sip and grimaced. "Ugh." He licked the bitterness off lips thoughtfully. "Prom's coming up, isn't it?"  
  
"Funny you should bring it up. It is, and I've been meaning to ask you if you can clear your calendar enough to chaperone. People actually like you, after all."  
  
"Hah. Who else have you got?"  
  
"Mr. Gardner, his... friend, Mr. Lewis, Mr. Brady, and Ms. Jupiter." A slight, significant smile on that last one made Hollis raise an eyebrow. "Will you?"  
  
"Sure, Adrian. Why not?" He tipped easily back in his chair, poised at exactly the right balance. "What's the theme this year, anyway?"  
  
"Nostalgia." Adrian smiled. "Period dress encouraged."

 

"Hey, Adrian?" Dan called, hunched up in the scaffolding like an owl. They were in the Domino Room at a strange and beautiful old hotel Adrian had dug up. It was an eerie, black and white fairyland, and Laurie had fallen in love with it at first sight.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"This red you want here, man. Have you ever seen 'Carrie'?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"It's gonna look like that, Adrian. For the love of god, let's go with the amber and rose, all right?"  
  
Adrian smiled to himself, the expression equal parts smugness and real happiness for Dan, who had apparently finally learned that he was allowed a share of the oxygen after all, passing Adrian's psychological pop quiz with flying colors. Of _course_ the red would make it look like _Carrie_. He glanced over at Laurie and Walter pinning some sheer white drapery to the wall, Walter stretched out and almost en pointe to reach the marks Adrian had made. He actually seemed to be in the middle of a growth spurt, but Adrian had the sinking suspicion that he was always going to be pocket-sized.  
  
"What do you mean you're not going to prom, dumbass? You're going with me and Dan."  
  
"Lack funds." He muttered around the tacks clenched in his teeth. "Lack evening clothes."  
  
"...Walter, you have white tie that you took in to fit. Just borrow it back from Hollis. And duh, we'll get your ticket. Come on, if we go halves neither of us will even notice." He shook his head, and she sighed. "Dammit, bi- dumbass." She had a hard time not calling him 'bitch' sometimes, because he frequently acted like one, but she had learned early on that it was like tossing a molotov cocktail into a lake of gasoline, and she didn't like doing that, since the poor guy had enough to be pissed about already. "Seriously, baby." She said, more gently, putting a hand on his shoulder. "We're not going if you don't. We're all in this together."  
  
He dropped his head, a blush creeping over the tips of his ears and the back of his neck, then got back to work, his face still pink as he tacked the material up. "Okay."   
  
No one would be surprised to see them, anyway. The school was arty enough to have a visible gay population, so the well-meaning people who had reported Dan's indiscretions with Walter or Walter's with Dan, depending on how you preferred to look at it, had mostly been concerned about the infidelity, and had been relieved to hear about bisexuality and polyamory instead. Ursula had just laughed and laughed, delighted that something _interesting_ was happening for once, filing her sharp little cat's claw nails in the dressing room.  
  
"Two sixteen-year-old boys at once?" She had grinned wickedly. "Mmm, do you have a gay sister?"  
  
"You wish." Laurie remembered rolling her eyes as she leaned in to the mirror to make sure the ballet eyes Ursula had given her hadn't smeared. "God, you freak. You are the only person I know who's been expelled for sleeping with staff, y'know that? You, Ursula Zandt, are fuckin' unique."  
  
"I regret nothing." She laughed, the sound rich and dark, sending a small but undeniable chill up Laurie's spine. "Hellllloooooo, Nurse!"  
  
There was a reason Laurie liked their adroit and gentle makeup mistress, and about ten thousand reasons they had a fight about once a week. It was a comforting ritual for both of them, in its own funny way. She never came over, because Laurie's mother couldn't stand her.

 

Sally had spent one long afternoon talking with Laurie and making sure that she understood about responsibility and not being a goddamned idiot, and had since then taken up the habit of cranking her classic rock when the boys were over. Together or separately, since Sally hadn't fallen off a turnip wagon yesterday, as her mother would say, and had quickly figured out what had put the idea of a girl with two guys into her head. Really, she was happy to give it her blessing. It seemed to her that Laurie had landed on her feet. The kid had always been lucky, anyway.  
  
Walter had even spent a few nights, taking refuge at her place when Dan's was unavailable. He didn't have the comfort of long association, but Ms. Jupiter said he was no trouble, and he believed she wouldn't say she didn't mind if she did. Still, she made him uncomfortable. She was almost as pretty as her daughter, and in much the same way, and looking at Laurie's mother the way he always ended up looking at her, however briefly, made him feel bad. Dan flirted with her in a sweet and effortless way that was somehow completely appropriate. Walter wondered how he did it. Since he had no idea, he just did his best to be thankful and polite and stay out of her way. He usually washed the dishes when she fed him, and after a while, she had given up trying to make him stop.  
  
On that lazy saturday afternoon, he was sprawled on Laurie's bed, watching dust motes dance in front of a wonderful old poster of Carey Grant he had found for her at a garage sale. She was in the bathroom, rustling her way into the dress she had ordered, which had finally arrived.  
  
"Wow. Uh, I think maybe the pattern is a little... Yikes. I'll come out and show you, 'kay?"  
  
"Okay." He sat up, and very nearly fell over again when he saw her. They had decided to go Edwardian, since it was what Walter had to work with, and Laurie had found the perfect pattern for an off-the-shoulder evening gown with a slight train. She had chosen a pattern of black butterflies silk-screened onto white fabric, and found it overwhelming in person. The butterflies were massive, and so so crisply black that the white base glowed.  
  
"See what I mean?" She did a brief twirl. "It's kinda freaky." He slowly shook his head, feeling like his tongue was glued to the roof of his mouth. "Walter?"  
  
She looked like Itzpapalotl, like the beautiful death's head warrior goddess of the Aztecs, the clawed, obsidian butterfly. He had first seen her in one of Dan's books, and she still haunted some of his darkest dreams. He crawled off the bed to kneel at her feet, burying his face in the cool, rustling folds of the skirt. "No. Not freaky. Beautiful. Very, very beautiful."


	9. Chapter 9

Dan's parents didn't believe in rented limos for what was essentially a glorified sock-hop, but they agreed some style was required. His father's car looked a bit like a hearse, but it was a cool hearse, and it drove beautifully. He made his way down the increasingly narrow and crooked streets to the slum Walter lived in, praying that he would be waiting outside or something. Since he wasn't, Dan idled nervously, listening to 'God Bless the Child' and hoping he wouldn't get carjacked.  
  
He was on the verge of getting out and braving the nasty cracked steps and the filth to find him, when Walter came bounding down the steps like a deer, what appeared to be an already-broken gravy boat sailing past his ear to shatter against the leaning fence. He was wearing sweatpants and a stained Rolling Stones t-shirt, but under his arm he carried a familiar, neat bundle. Dan rolled down the window.  
  
"Your chariot awaits!"  
  
His mother's voice erupted from the darkened entryway in a drunken snarl. "See if I care if you ever come back, you little bastard!"  
  
"Go to hell, Ms. Kovacs!" Dan yelled, and opened Walter's door for him. "Come on, man."  
  
Walter nodded, climbing in. His hair was still wet from a shower, and gleamed a slightly darker red. He leaned back in the seat as Dan sped away, wishing he was driving a tank so he could raze the miserable place to the ground. "You look good." He murmured.  
  
"What?" Dan laughed. "Oh, thanks. I'm just glad I came early. There's enough room for you to change in the back, and we can actually fix you up at Laurie's."  
  
"Hurm." Walter crawled into the back, using such graceful and economic movements to get out of one set of clothes into the other that Dan had to tip the rearview up so he wouldn't start watching him and run into a pylon or something.  
  
Laurie still couldn't believe that her mother had booked them a room. Well, she could believe _her_ mother had done it, but no one else's would have. Still, for once she wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth. They were in Sally's room, since Sally actually owned a vanity and could set Laurie up in front of it to arrange her hair, clicking merrily around behind her in a pair of heels Laurie had last seen on Marlene Deitrich. She had a closet full of wonderful vintage stuff that Laurie couldn't borrow because she couldn't really fill it out yet, and had pulled out a gorgeous white suit with black piping that made Laurie remember that being a stewardess used to be glamourous. A matching pillbox hat with a little black veil completed her ensemble, and Laurie was glad that they both looked good and didn't match. She still wasn't quite sure about the dress, but Walter's endorsement had been a little too emphatic for her to change it. As Sally hummed "In the Mood" and pinned Laurie's hair up into something ludicrous and perfectly like a Gibson Girl's, Laurie stroked her skull choker with black-gloved fingers and loved her mother.

At the sound of the doorbell, Laurie started up and Sally told her to sit back down and make sure her eyeliner was on straight, clicking downstairs to throw open the door and welcome the boys in, pulling Dan into a few steps of swing, whirling him around the kitchen. She stopped, beaming.

"Well, don't you look sharp." She held him out at arm's length, and he grinned.

"You're not so bad yourself, Ms. Jupiter."

"Thanks, kiddo." She chuckled, and left him to go adjust Walter's tie. "And Walter, you're proof that red hair can be sexy on a man."

He blushed, but stood still and let her work. Dan's fingers had been itching to fix that since Walter had crawled back into the front seat, the Phantom without his mask, and he breathed an audible sigh of relief when Sally straightened up, leaving order behind her. "Now, Laurie's going to be down in a minute, so we haven't got much time to talk. I love you both and think you're wonderful, but I must tell you this: if my baby girl should be struck by lightning, I'm gonna hold the people in this room personally responsible, capiche?"

"Yes, ma'am." Walter looked reassured if anything, and Dan smiled softly. If there was anything he understood, it was the idea of a sacred trust.

"Of course, Ms. Jupiter." Dan smiled.

"Yeah, I figured you'd be all right." She glanced over her shoulder, catching sight of Laurie's hem descending the stairs. "Well, if you've got a corsage, whip it out, because here's our girl."

"Uh, she never actually told me what she was wearing, so I-- woah."

Laurie grinned at him. "Do you like it?"

He nodded, and Walter went up to her and offered her a corsage of paper flowers, striped blinding white and depthless black. Pinning it on was the work of a moment, and when Laurie looked in the hall mirror, she decided it couldn't be more perfect. She hugged Walter carefully so she wouldn't crush them, and then led the way out the door, Sally waving and promising to catch up later.

"I'm glad Walter came through on the flowers." Dan said when they were all settled in, Walter in the back due to having the shortest legs and not wearing a massive formal that filled the footwell. "I meant to bring you some, but I didn't want to do what my dad did to my mom."

"Yeah?" Laurie grinned, leaning back in her seat and reaching back to squeeze Walter's hand.

"He figured red roses were a pretty safe bet, but she was wearing purple." He shuddered. "We still have the photo."

Laurie laughed, feeling a sudden rush of affection for them both that was almost painful.

"What's with the green?" Eddie growled.

Adrian looked over his shoulder and smiled up at him. He had gone late Victorian, all crisp black and white except for a bright green carnation on his lapel. "It's historically accurate. Did you actually buy a ticket?"

"Fuck, no." He glanced away, one rough hand resting absently on Adrian's shoulder. "Shit, Laurie's mom is hot."

"Indeed."

"What do you care? You're a fag."

"Only about sixty percent of one. And we are gazing upon the source of many of Laurie's charms, after all."

"You're a weird fucker, Adrian."

"So I've been told. Why are you here?"

"Isn't crashing prom the kinda thing guys like me do? Besides, these little cracker things are fuckin' fantastic." He crunched a canape, raining crumbs onto Adrian's shoulder and licking some pate from his fingertip. Adrian brushed the crumbs off and smiled as Eddie pulled out a flask and took a swig.

"Planning to get drunk enough to make out with me again?"

"Well, I certainly don't want a prince like you thinkin' I'm easy." He grinned like a shark.

"But you are easy. You're as easy as a dog."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" He murmured, sending shivers up Adrian's spine. His voice only dropped like that when someone was about to get the shit kicked out of me.

"It means that you operate on pure, hedonistic instinct." He purred, turning and deftly taking the flask from his hand. "You're the most beautiful animal I've ever seen, and I live with a five thousand dollar cat." He took a long swallow, enjoying the acrid burn of cheap whiskey for once before he tucked it into his jacket as Mr. Lewis came by. He taught art, and Adrian had selected him because girls thought he was cute and felt sorry for him, and would therefore actually listen to him and guilt their boyfriends into doing likewise.

He was surprised to see Eddie actually be fairly cordial to him, and looked curiously at his companion when Mr. Lewis floated on.

"What? His class was all right."

"I didn't know you were an artist."

"I'm not, but I made this bitchin' thing out of old silverware and shit. He actually took it home, 'cause I couldn't." He shrugged. "Said he liked it that much. I might as well be nice about him."

Adrian smiled. "Eddie, will you go to my place when you get thrown out?"

"Listen, just because--"

"Oh, please." He rolled his eyes. "I like you, you dumb bastard. In the sense of enjoying your company. And I try to have company Bubastis likes, and she adores you."

Eddie snorted. "Hell, give me my flask back and we'll see."

in the end, Adrian was glad to call it a success on several levels. Watching Mr. Mason and Ms. Jupiter dance, he hoped she would finally club him over the head and drag him back to her cave, since there definitely wasn't going to be anyone else there tonight. Laurie, Dan, and Walter had already quietly disappeared, and the crowd was thinning out. He picked his way over the confetti and cup strewn floor, spats gleaming in the blacklight as he mused on how pleasant it was when things worked out. "Unforgettable" was playing, since a lot of the kids had already lit out for post-prom parties and DJ might as well please himself. And Ursula, who had pulled Janey Slater into some classic West Coast swing and seemed to be in the middle of charming her into a smile, a rare event since Jon had dumped her three months ago.

Watching them, he actually ran into Eddie, who looked wolfishly amused. "Hey, maybe I can buy that forty percent." He turned and studied them for a long moment himself. "Dunno what the hell is wrong with Jon. Janey's a peach." He fiddled nervously with a toothpick, and Adrian could tell he was dying for a smoke. "Went after her myself but she told me to get bent."

Adrian laughed, and tucked his tophat under one arm, rolling his head to stretch his neck. He suddenly realizing how tired he was and sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Eddie?"

"Yeah?"

He put it neatly back in place. "Would you like to get out of here?"

He shrugged. "Eh. Why the hell not?" He let Adrian take his arm, and they headed for the door.


	10. Chapter 10

Laurie giggled as she shut the door, leaning back against it and grinning at Walter, who smiled back. Dan had left on some mysterious errand, but they were expecting him back any moment, and Laurie sighed, pulling out the eight thousand or so hairpins her mother had used. She stopped with her hair half-down, feeling Walter's eyes on her. "Wanna help?"  
  
He nodded, and she laughed again, going to him and leaning down just enough for his calloused little fingers to deftly pluck out the rest, faster than she would have done it herself. Walter had some kind of Old Testament relationship with her hair, and she liked to encourage it. She nuzzled the side of his neck, frustrated by his collar, still neatly buttoned, and his tie, unmolested since her mother had fixed it. He sighed faintly, tilting his head a little, and she grinned, unknotting his tie and undoing the first three buttons of his shirt, biting him when she could and making him yelp. On anyone else it would have been a pained sound, but Walter wound his hands into her hair to hold her there, trembling. She wrapped an arm around his waist to support him and bit him hard as he whimpered helplessly, clinging to her. He actually hissed like an angry cat when there was a knock on the door, and immediately blushed, stepping back on unsteady legs as Laurie clicked over to the door to look through the peephole and let Dan in.  
  
He was carrying his regular school backpack, his clothing in complete disarray as it had been for hours at this point. He overheated, Walter didn't. He grinned shyly. "Uh, I didn't know where we'd end up or what would happen, so I brought a change of clothes for everybody."  
  
Laurie laughed and hugged him. "Seriously, do you live out of that car?" The amount of useful stuff crammed into Dan's car had never ceased to amaze her. Where most people carried a spare tire if they were prepared and nothing if they weren't, Dan had blankets, flares, a first-aid kit, several rolls of duct tape, a toolbox, and usually food if you knew where to look.  
  
"Pretty much." He set it down and pulled off his jacket, sighing in relief. he had packed jeans and a sweatshirt for himself, a full set of Walter's clothes since there were always plenty lying around the only place he could actually get his laundry done, and an outgrown pair of jeans that might fit Laurie, along with a t-shirt that would fit like a dress and a pair of flipflops to replace the heeled black boots she was wearing.  
  
"You didn't even know we had a room." Laurie flopped onto the bed, watching him.  
  
"No, but I did want us to be comfortable if we got stranded somewhere, and to have something to wear if we got thrown up on or anything." He methodically stripped down to his boxers and sprawled out next to Laurie, who pounced him immediately. She liked kissing Dan senseless, because it was so easy. He whimpered, pulling her on top of him and making her dress rustle cool and crisp around them both. She felt the mattress shift as Walter climbed on to watch, and smiled against Dan's mouth, biting his lip and making him moan. He whined when she stopped to look over at Walter.  
  
"Don't you wanna get more comfortable?"  
  
She was rewarded with a shy grin, and Walter peeled his jacket off, his shoes clumping to the floor. Dan sat up to help him when he got tangled in his tie, and proceeded to grope him shamelessly as he helped with the rest of his layers, tossing them to the floor as Walter crawled into his lap, panting as he buried his face in Dan's shoulder. Dan tipped his chin up in the gesture that had become second nature to him and to Laurie. "Now how am I supposed to kiss you if you do that?" He whispered, and of course Walter didn't get a chance to answer.  
  
Laurie stood and slid out of her dress. Adrian may have sneered a little at her anachronistic zipper, but the damned things had been invented for a reason. She draped the dress over a chair and hummed quietly as she unhooked her bra and stepped out of her panties. She hadn't bought her tall black boots to match the gloves. It had just worked out that way, but when Dan looked up and saw her, she thought that she couldn't possibly have planned it better.

 

Dan licked suddenly dry lips, and Walter smiled. He never really made fun of Dan's plethora of fetishes, but they did amuse him. As far as he was concerned, Laurie looked a little too much like something out of the cheap magazines his mother's "friends" were always leaving around, but her warm smile bore no resemblance to the strained rictus of cheap porno, so it was all right. He shifted off of Dan's lap and she caught his jaw in one gloved hand and kissed him, close enough for Dan to see a brief flash of Walter's tongue as he kissed back.  
  
Laurie purred and draped herself in Dan's lap, wrapping her arms around his neck as she ran the tip of her tongue around the edge of his ear, something that always made him shudder. "Guess you didn't know the boots went this far up."  
  
"N-no." She sucked lightly on his earlobe and he whimpered, the sound becoming a cry as she squeezed him through his boxers.  
  
"Glad you like it." She purred, shifting to kiss his neck. "Maybe it's a little too skanky for Walter."  
  
"Not skanky." He shook his head decisively and she laughed, kissing Dan's shoulder and crawling out of his lap to go and fetch her bra, since it contained what few personal effects she had felt necessary.  
  
She felt oddly shy as she sat back with two foil-wrapped condoms, looking over at Walter again. "Are you sure?" He nodded, and she beamed. They had had to be so careful with Walter, his unhesitating leap in the depths not withstanding. It had taken a long time to get past his reservations, which were grouped in a strange phalanx somewhere between Laurie's virtue and Walter's sick guilt about letting anyone make him feel good. Laurie was sure that no other girl in the world had had to demand that her boyfriend let her blow him, and as far as getting so much as a finger up her ass, she had had to practice outright deception, finally making him understand by pressing a spit-slicked finger into him during a blowjob. He had jumped, yelped, and then groaned, melting and letting her slowly fuck him as she worked. After coming so hard his eyes rolled back in his head and his toes wouldn't uncurl for ten minutes, he had admitted the error of his ways.

Getting into position was a little awkward, and they had a roving case of the giggles which would transfer to a new victim at random, throwing them all off as they tumbled around on the massive bed. But finally Laurie straddled Dan's lap, and as she guided him in and and sank down, it quit being funny. She shuddered, rocking slowly to work the last inch or two in, Dan's hands on her hips. She reached back and took Walter's hand, pulling it between her legs. He stroked them both, gathering even more of Laurie's wetness than had already dripped down, two fingers easily working their way in. He could feel Dan through the thin layer of muscle and skin between them, and whined softly, working Laurie open so carefully that she started to rock impatiently, and groaned deep in her chest when he finally carefully pressed in, whimpering and moving slowly more to make it last more than five seconds than for Laurie, who was growling impatiently, her nails sinking into Dan's shoulders and making him moan and finally move. Walter had no choice but to follow, and Laurie melted between them, feeling full almost to the point of burning and... not complete. That isn't the word because she wasn't a codependent mess, but it was something like. She had wanted them both like this for so, so long, and there were no words for her joy in finally having them.  
  
After they got used to being inside her, feeling the crushingly tight heat and the beating of her heart, their hands and mouths were everywhere. She felt like something holy, ecstatic pilgrims bathing in divinity with their loving, greedy hands all over her. It was frustrating not to be able to touch as much, her hands shakily flying and clutching and letting go only to cling again somewhere else. Dan's hair, Walter's lean, freckled thigh, her own breasts and back to Dan's shoulders. She cried out as they sped up, Walter pinch her nipples just the right side of too hard. She barely had a moment to regret how soon they were going to come before Dan's clever fingers on her clit took her with them, her cry breaking and stuttering, sounding like something lost. They didn't stand a chance in the face of her climax and went off one after the other like two successive firecrackers on a string. Walter sobbed, his face pressed to the back of her neck as he rode it out in short, sharp jerks. Dan bit her shoulder and moaned helplessly, pulling her hips down and just trembling for a long moment, finally releasing her to laugh shakily.  
  
"Jesus Christ."  
  
"You know, you curse awfully catholic for a Jew." Laurie muttered.  
  
"Catholics have all the good curses." He shivered with some small aftershock, and kissed the mark he had left on her shoulder. It was easy for all of them to fall to the side and twist and turn until they were a neat set of three spoons, Dan on the outside and Walter on the inside. Laurie purred as she snuggled between them, prepared for a short nap before the boys each took their turn in the middle.


	11. Chapter 11

Attention of any kind was never something that took Adrian by surprise. So he couldn't have said why his heart pounded so hard when Eddie pressed him back against the wall and kissed him roughly. All things considered it had been fairly obvious. Adrian had watched Eddie with girls, and though there were obvious cosmetic differences, the most important part of the pattern remained the same. Eddie hunted. He would gambol about with his prey for a while, making friends with her and getting to know her vulnerabilities and then withdraw into a kind of aloof, brooding state that was like a snake coiled up to strike, steeling himself to make his move.   
  
As soon as they had gotten into the car he had lit up without a word and spent the trip staring out the window. He was enough to make Adrian believe that humans still had functioning pheromones, since he positively stank of lust during the silent drive, every line of his body utterly relaxed but humming with energy, primed to pounce at any moment with effortless, deadly grace. He had even moved the way Adrian expected him to, but he was still trembling as he kissed back, smoothing the kiss out and softening it until it wasn't bruising anymore, gently sucking on Eddie's tongue and listening to him whine. His heart was still thudding in his ears as he slowly pulled away, lightly brushing his lips against Eddie's and mingling their breath before leaning back against the wall and looking into his eyes.  
  
"Eddie, what are you doing?" He murmured, lightly touching his cheek.  
  
"What does it fucking look like?" He growled, nuzzling Adrian's neck in a painfully obvious bid to avoid looking at him.  
  
"It looks like you still don't know how you feel about this." He said, gently but firmly pushing him away.  
  
"What the fuck, Adrian?" He snarled, his eyes looking wounded. Eddie was never more dangerous than when he was trying to pretend you hadn't hurt him, and Adrian knew he had to head him off at the pass.  
  
"I don't want you drunk-dialing me at four on a Tuesday morning." He held up an admonitory finger. "I don't want you running screaming into the night only to come back with a revolver to finish me off and ritually cleanse yourself, and I don't want you showing up on the eve of your wedding in tears. None of that weird straight boy shit, Eddie."  
  
He laughed, catching Adrian's hand and sucking the finger into his mouth. "How about I get down on my knees and suck you off?" He murmured, his grey eyes burning into Adrian's and making him feel like something about to be eaten by leopard. He bit back a hysterical giggle and delicately stroked Eddie's tongue, making him purr and half-shut his eyes. It was obviously still a bad idea, but Adrian took him to bed anyway.

Laurie blinked out of her doze to feel Dan behind her, hard again. She smiled and rubbed back against him, and his soft gasp tickled her ear.

"Okay," he whispered breathlessly, "I'm awake."

Laurie giggled, and kissed the back of Walter's neck. "Walter?"

"W's nev'r 'sleep." Walter muttered, turning in Laurie's arms to nuzzle between her breasts.

"Sure you weren't, baby." She murmured, and kissed the top of his head. He purred, rubbing against her thigh, in the same state as Dan and she laughed, rolling onto her back and taking him with her. He growled and bit her neck, and she sighed, gesturing for Dan to retrieve another condom from her small hoard. He was back in a moment, and she tore open the wrapper and gently pushed Walter back so she could roll it onto him. He watched her with wide eyes, and she smiled, pulling him down again and wrapping around him. She looked up into his eyes as she slid him in, and he shuddered and whined, his arms shaking as he tried to keep from falling on her. Dan watched in attentive silence as Laurie trailed her fingertips up and down Walter's back, making him shiver. "Walter?"

"Yes?" He panted, slowly starting to move.

"I thought--" She paused, distracted by his intuitive knowledge of the perfect angle, "--that we should all take a shift in the middle." She whimpered, pulling him in deeper and holding him there, rolling her hips.

"What?" He muttered, moaning softly as she tightened around him.

"I want Dan to fuck you." She panted, biting his neck. "How do you boys feel about that?"

"Please, Dan?" He murmured, blushing almost as red as his hair as he glanced over at him.

"God, yes." Dan said fervently, and Laurie laughed, biting her lip and hugging Walter with her legs. He whimpered and Dan rubbed his upper back, digging his nails into the skin in a way Walter loved. "I'll be right back." He hopped up and padded off to the bathroom, pleased to almost instantly find some nice, slippery, hypoallergenic lotion. Wandering back out, he paused to watch them for a moment, absently warming the bottle between his palms. Laurie rocked with Walter, kissing him and stifling the little, almost surprised noises they both made. He shivered, and went to join them.

Walter looked over his shoulder as Dan moved behind him, holding his hips in place. "Hang on." He muttered, slicking his fingers and rubbing slowly. He had done that much to Walter before, loving every tight little sound he made, and it wasn't until he had two fingers pressed in to the knuckle that they were in new territory. Walter had started to rock shallowly again, and Dan moved with him, becoming so involved in preparing him that he almost didn't notice how hard he was. Laurie watched them, her eyes bright and clear. Walter's were closed as he bowed his head and pressed back.

Before Dan and Laurie, his only experience with this had come in the form of a brief and painful encounter with a client of his mother's, a guy even she didn't try to call her friend. Only one time in his life had her considerable capacity for violence been turned on someone in his defense. She had picked up a lamp and broken it three times across his tormentor's face, shrieking like a harpy as she drove him bleeding out the door, calling him a cocksucker, a sick fuck, and a child-molesting faggot. Walter had gotten a smack on the back of the head for being stupid, and a rare and tight hug.

As Dan sank into him, it bore so little resemblance that he laughed in relief, the sound turning into a moan almost too quickly to catch. Dan would never hurt him. He had been stupid to even think it might, and cried out as he pressed deeper, filling him completely. Dan was panting harshly, being as careful as he could.

"Okay?" He whispered as Laurie touched Walter's face, wordlessly asking the same question.

He nodded and kissed her palm, no long really capable of speech. He could only cry out with every movement either of them made, too open and sensitized to do anything else. With every one of Dan's thrusts plunging him into Laurie, he couldn't even stifle himself, his wayward voice running away without him, too garbled to form anything but wild, desperate cries. He whimpered and bit her shoulder, shaking as Dan picked up the pace, pulling his hips up and slamming into him with a low, pained groan.

"Fuck, Walter." He whimpered. "Wanted to do this for so long..." He bit his neck, grinding deep inside him and making him let out a sound that was almost a squeal. Walter sobbed, jerking frantically between them as Laurie clamped down on him like a vise. Overwhelmed, it didn't take him long to come, howling as Dan fucked him through it, the sound breaking as they moved. For once he did just collapse onto Laurie, feeling as though his bones had been replaced with plasticine. "Uh..." Dan stopped, and Walter mumbled softly, tightening and then relaxing again.

"...All right if you keep going." He whispered.

Dan whined, and started to slowly move again, drawing lazy groans from Walter's throat. Laurie shuddered and held him as Dan sped up just enough to finish himself off, a deep, feral groan rumbling up from his chest. Walter whimpered, and Laurie reached down and brought herself off with almost no effort, her eyes huge. They slumped into a more disordered pile this time, Dan and Laurie covering Walter in slow, soft kisses, petting him and whispering soothingly in his ears.

Eddie whimpered around Adrian's cock, his eyes closed, lashes trembling against his hollowed cheeks. He had been caught off-guard by how good it felt, and had actually started bobbing his head and setting up a decent rhythm more because of the way the slow drag of Adrian's cock over his tongue felt than from any conscious design. Of the many things he could have accused Adrian of being, 'slow' was not one of them, and he had quickly gotten the idea, lacing his fingers into Eddie's hair and rocking steadily and shallowly, the first fingers of his other hand wrapped around the base of his cock to give Eddie a comfortable stopping point. He had opted to sit on the edge of the bed and have Eddie kneel on the floor for several reasons: Eddie on his knees was just too good an idea to resist, it let him drape his legs over those broad shoulders, and it made it a lot harder for Eddie to choke through any fault of his. Although he realized that he shouldn't have worried as Eddie whined through his nose, licking insistently at Adrian's fingers.

"More?" He murmured, stroking Eddie's hair. Eddie moaned and swallowed desperately, taking Adrian into his throat very smoothly for a beginner. It hurt a little, and he had to pull up or gag after a moment, but he did it again almost instantly, groaning and pulling off to wipe the drool from around his mouth, panting. He glanced up at Adrian, pissed because he could feel himself blushing. Adrian just smiled sweetly down at him, cupping his jaw and lightly rubbing his thumb over Eddie's lower lip, making his eyes flutter shut. He smirked and slid his thumb into Eddie's mouth, crooking it to stroke his tongue and make him let out a loud, needy whimper.

"Fuck, why does that feel so good?" He whispered as Adrian withdrew, pressing clumsy kisses to his inner thigh rather than facing him, his face burning.

Adrian purred, running his fingers through Eddie's hair. "Your mouth actually has more nerve endings than your cock, you know." He gently nudged Eddie to face him again and brushed the head of his cock over his lips, tracing around Eddie's instantly open mouth, making him shiver. "And you obviously have an oral fixation." Eddie mewled, and Adrian was surprised to hear the sharp edge of incipient begging so soon. He gave him the first two inches to keep him quiet. "I don't think..." He whispered, breathless as Eddie sucked slowly and steadily, comforted, "...that I've ever seen you without something in your mouth, if there was anything to be had." Eddie looked up at him, and he shuddered to see how glassy his eyes were. He looked drugged, and moaned when Adrian started to fuck his mouth, each stroke going straight to his cock along with Adrian's soft, constant moans. Eddie whined when he pulled out again, struggling to follow as Adrian held him back. "I'm trying not to choke you, Eddie."

"Hey, I heard nice boys swallow." He unconsciously licked his lips, trembling.

"I certain have no objections." Adrian murmured, gripping Eddie's hair again. He made a soft, hungry sound that Adrian was hard-pressed to classify. He only knew that he liked it, and that it took him hardly any time at all to come. Eddie whimpered and swallowed convulsively, still making needy little noises as Adrian carefully slid out, too sensitive to bear any more contact. "Ssshh." He stroked his hair. "Easy, Eddie. I'll take care of you."


	12. Chapter 12

As soon as Walter had recovered he was hard again, a little sore and incredibly tired but determined to take Dan before he collapsed. He laboriously sat up and nudged Dan onto his back and spread his legs. Dan shivered, staring up at him and rapidly getting hard again as Walter bit his neck, his hands sliding down Dan's sides to his hips. Laurie chuckled, watching them. When Walter held out a hand, his eyes still burning into Dan's, she passed him the lotion. She had almost expected him to be rougher with Dan, since he was a boy and could presumably take it, but she felt ashamed of herself when she saw how tenderly he touched him, kissing him softly as he slid two slender fingers into him, making him cry out. Dan shuddered as Walter sat back and stretched him, biting his forearm to keep quiet, whining when Laurie pulled it free.

"Now how am I supposed to kiss you if you do that?" She whispered with a smile. Dan whined, and melted under her gentle attack as she slid her tongue into his mouth. She liked it when he let her drive, all submission and soft, helpless noises. He moaned, suddenly too distracted even to just let her kiss him, and she glanced down to see Walter halfway into him, eyes half shut as he pressed Dan's knees up, seating himself fully. Dan mewled piteously as Walter started to move, hips working as smoothly as a piston, and Laurie shivered, grabbing one of the last condoms and tearing it open, slotting in between them to roll it over Dan. Walter blinked, then moaned as he watched Laurie straddle Dan and slide down onto him. He got so loud when they both found their rhythm that he had to press a pillow to his face, bucking his hips as best he could, pinned in place and nearly screaming. 

Walter drove him over the edge with short sharp thrusts that were like being punched without the pain, and he really did scream, the pillowcase tearing in his teeth. Walter had been barely holding on in the first place, and he cried out sharply, as if he had been stung, and followed him. Still panting, he bit Laurie's shoulder and wrapped his arm around her, stroking her clit for a surprisingly short time before she shuddered, coming hard and silently, making Dan sob as she contracted around him, not letting him slide out until she was done.

None of them could move for the next few minutes, but Walter finally plucked the pillow from Dan's face.

"All right?"

"Y-yeah. Fuck..."

"Tears, Dan."

He giggled sheepishly. "Uh, well. I might've cried a little." He blushed, and Lauried hugged him tightly.

"That's hot. Shut up."

"Okay."

Adrian's hands were so gentle that Eddie was beginning to think that he would lose his mind before he came. On his elbows and knees on the purple bedspread, he had expected it to hurt. Not much, because Adrian was one of those obnoxious bastards who knew how to do everything right, but hadn't known that someone could just stick two fingers in your ass and have it not hurt at all. It had felt weird, sure, but now that Adrian was balls-deep in him, it was starting to feel good. Really, really good. And Adrian was still touching him, warm and feather light all over. It almost tickled, and there was no pain. None at all. Eddie hadn't realized how important it was until Adrian completely eliminated it. He should have come by now, but somehow the light touches just drove the sensation deeper inside. It felt like it had drained inward from his skin, and he was warm all through and weak with it, too relaxed even to keep himself from making soft, formless sounds with every slick, smooth thrust. Even girls were rougher than Adrian, and he whined at the feel of a cool tongue on the scars on his shoulder.

"Fuck, Adrian..." He whimpered, finally finding some words. "Please, I can't--" He nearly howled at the touch of Adrian's hand on his cock. No callouses, and lubricated almost too well, it just made everything that much worse. "Adrian, you've gotta hurt me." He sobbed, pressing back against him. "I can't come like this, I can't, I can't--" He cried out as Adrian licked one finger, rolling the tip over Eddie's nipple.

"I think you can." He purred, pulling Eddie's hips back and going deeper than ever, making him cry out piteously. He felt like he was going to catch fire or explode or something, his heart pounding. "Just let it happen." Adrian purred in his ear. "Let go, I've got you." And then he licked a cool trail up Eddie's spine, grinding on that one spot that made his vision grey out as Eddie came. It seemed to go on forever, and he mewled helplessly as he rode it out, Adrian rocking slowly into him and murmuring soothing nonsense in his ear. Eddie's legs trembled and gave out, and he whimpered as Adrian finished himself off, moaning softly and finally pulling out, knotting the condom and pitching it with effortless grace into the trashcan before wrapping around Eddie and holding him close. He was still shaking, and didn't say anything about how gay it was as he hid his face in Adrian's chest, already half-asleep.

It wasn't as if Hollis didn't understand the appeal of youth. He was comfortable enough in his own skin to know that taking an occasional extra look at the cheerleaders just meant that he wasn't dead yet and not to flagellate himself for it. But he had never been able to understand why so many men didn't seem to realize that the good part was after thirty. Not for you, unless your drives were particularly antic and uncontrollable, in which case you might finally be starting to last, but for her. Sally could come as easily as breathing, and he was just glad to be there for it, his hands sliding from her rolling hips to rest at the curve of her waist. She was straddling his lap, her breasts brushing his face as she rode him like she was trying to win the Kentucky Derby.

He looked up at her and she grinned, her eyes alight and all that red hair wild over her shoulders. She kissed him and he moaned because it tasted like her instead of her lipstick, the last of which was smeared all over his face and probably made him look like he had just got in a fight and lost. He couldn't have cared about that for a million dollars, or about the way his hair stuck up from Sally grabbing it. She dug her nails into his shoulders and tightened hard around him, tearing a hoarse, violent sound from his throat. She bit his neck.

"By my count" she panted, "this is number three," she licked a line up to his ear and caught it between her teeth, making him shudder. "And you're coming with me this time." She growled, the sound at once playful and deadly serious.

"Yes, ma'am." Hollis murmured, not really sure if he was playing or not. He reached down between them, the pad of his thumb firm and gentle on her clit, more holding steady and letting her move than actually stroking. When she pulsed around him and screamed his name, he had no choice but to follow her, groaning as he held her tightly as if she was going to try to get away, his face buried in her breasts. He started to come back to himself a little as Sally ran her fingers through his hair, trailing her nails over his scalp and making his hips give a sharp, involuntary jump. He didn't resist when she gently pushed him over onto his back, sliding off of him tuck in against his side with her head on his shoulder. He wrapped an arm around her, his other hand lightly resting on her belly, slowly stroking and gently squeezing.

Sally figured it was just like him to unerringly find the spot on her body she hated most and love it, and she purred, cuddling in against his chest. "I'm glad you don't just pass out after."

"Tell you the truth, I'm barely awake." He chuckled, kissing the top of her head.

"Barely's enough for me, sugar." She murmured, kissing the closest skin to her mouth, not leaving even the trace of a mark.

"Shouldn't be." Hollis was drifting off, and he had the feeling there was nothing he could do about it. "Y'should have everything you need" he muttered, rapidly losing coherence. "And some extra, 'cause you're a doll."

"So are you, Hollis."

The last thing he felt was her lips on his cheek.


	13. Chapter 13

Dan woke to the sound of a running shower, and to Walter's smoky, more-bluesy-than-written rendition of "Satisfaction". He smiled before his eyes were open, and stretched luxuriously before sitting up. Laurie was grinning at him, sitting with her back against the headboard.

"Think we should start a band?" Dan murmured, kissing her shoulder.

She stroked his hair. "Can you play anything? I've got a few piano lessons under my belt and that's it."

"Guitar, sort of."

"You and everyone else." She chuckled, kissing him softly. "You want breakfast? We've got a room service tab."

"Hell yes."

Walter finally turned off the shower, wrapped himself in one of the hotel's robes, and came out of the steam-filled bathroom to find Dan and Laurie breakfasting in savage grandeur on the bed, sprawled out naked and content. His footfalls were silent, and he watched them for a long moment before Dan glanced up and started.

"Gah, white ninja! Come here and eat something."

Walter smiled shyly and came to join them. Opting not to break Sally's bank, they had gotten the largest and cheapest option, which was a platter of fruit and pastry, almost none of which Walter was familiar with. He sat on the edge of the bed and Laurie smiled.

"Maybe we should bell you like a cat." She crawled over to him and picked up her choker, clasping it around his neck. "It suits you."

He snorted, and let Dan show him how to eat a starfruit.

Eddie woke up sneezing and clawing at his face. Once the world cleared a bit, he realized that Bubastis was crouched on his pillow, sweeping her tail across his face. Adrian was cuddled in against his side, invisible save for a shock of golden hair sticking out of the blankets, rendering him invulnerable to acts of feline terrorism.

"Aw, lay off." Eddie growled, batting her tail out of his eyes and sitting up. She stared at him with deep, gold eyes and let out a soft but piercing mew. "What? What the hell do you want, you freak?" Eddie murmured, tickling her under the chin and making her purr like a Harley as he slid out of bed and pulled on last night's pants. She leapt down to the floor as he tucked a cigarette behind his ear, and trotted after him with her tail held high. Adrian's kitchen was full of all kinds of weird, unidentifiable shit, but after some fumbling he found the ridiculous gourmet cat food, which probably cost more than his mother's weekly grocery budget. Dumping one can onto a plate seemed to be the right course of action, so he did that, scratched her behind the ears, and wandered off to the balcony to smoke.

The sliding glass door opened nearly silently, and Eddie was sharply aware of the soft footfalls he wasn't hearing. "Hey, Adrian."

"Hey." Warm arms wrapped around his waist, and he could feel the heat of Adrian's body behind him. He couldn't help but remember last night and shiver.

"What would you do if I spun around and clocked you right now?"

He chuckled softly. "Well, I'd be very hurt, since you promised me no weird straight boy shit." He kissed his shoulder. "Thank you for feeding Bubastis."

He shivered again, wishing he could stop. "Cats can be pretty shitty, but I like her all right." Adrian chuckled, nuzzling the back of his neck. Eddie couldn't have said later just how he wound up trading the smoke for Adrian's first two fingers, but he did, letting it burn away to nothing on the railing.

It was Laurie's idea to have Walter try on the dress. Wandering around the room and putting their things in order, Dan's Math-a-thon shirt billowing around her, she caught him looking at it with a sort of wistful expression that just about broke her heart, and she had said, "You wanna try it on?" almost before she knew it. Walter had looked at her as wide-eyed as a startled deer, and she had smiled and reminded him that he was still wearing her choker.

Now he was standing in the bathroom, his hands trembling as he pulled it on, so careful. He felt like he'd kill himself if he smudged or tore it, because it was perfect. So cool and smooth, and the design so crisp. The sharpest black and white in the world, with no grey anywhere on it. The sound of the zipper was so loud that it drowned out the pounding of his heart. He stared down at the butterflies rather than look at his reflection. He was too ugly for this. He would ruin it. It would look ridiculous. He shuffled out, his shoulders tense and his eyes on the floor.

He was met with silence until Dan muttered, "Shit, you look good."

"Making fun of me." He muttered, his ears going red.

"No." Dan shook his head, going to him and kissing him deeply, holding him there when he tensed to run. Laurie wrapped her arms around him from behind, kissing his shoulder.

"Wear black and white more often." She murmured. "Do you want the gloves?"

"...Yes."

Laurie brought them, and they slid up his arms like black water. Dan shuddered when Walter trailed his hands up and down his back, and knelt to help him into the boots when they were offered and shyly accepted.

The trip home was melancholy. Walter insisted on being dropped off at his apartment, wanting to make sure that the scum wandering around the place hadn't done anything to his stuff in his absence, and needing some time alone to deal with the memory of Dan's breath on the inside of his thighs under the skirt of Laurie's dress. He wasn't exactly ashamed of it, but it was a lot to deal with. His skin felt raw with it, and he hoped his mother wasn't home, because he knew that her whore's eyes would read everything that had happened in his face, and it was too good for her. She would just make it something dirty and bad. It was what she did to everything. Of course, she was sitting in the kitchen in her horrible flowered housedress and crooked curlers, swigging bourbon. Walter had never been lucky. 

"So, finally got your dick wet? Glad you're not a homo on top of everything else." 

He didn't deign to reply, going to the fridge and checking to see if there was anything worth eating in it. Behind all the mold and sentient Chinese food cartons he found some string cheese that wouldn't go bad until year after next, and opened it with his teeth as he shut the door.

"Whoever the slut was, I hope she liked your flowers."

"Don't ever call her that." His voice was flat as he picked at the cheese, pulling off a long strip. "She's not like you."

"You miserable little bastard." She glared at him, but didn't do anything else. She still threw things at him, but she had stopped hitting him when he got big enough to hit back and have it hurt.

"And whose fault is it that I'm a bastard?" He deftly side-stepped the bottle when she hurled it at him. "Shouldn't drink before noon if you want to get anything done, mom." He left her cursing her wasted booze, and went to make sure his journal was where he had left it, and that no one had touched his savings. Walter didn't have a bank account, because his mother couldn't manage her own finances, let alone anyone else's. Instead, he had singles in plastic bags, secreted above the ceiling of his closet. It was a good hiding place. Walter had experience with that, since there was just about nowhere junkies and tweakers wouldn't look for money or drugs, and he had been robbed twice. The third time had been the charm, as far as his hoard went. There was apparently no join of any kind. It looked as though the crappy fake wood veneer was glued straight onto the immoveable underlying plywood, when not only did it come off fairly easily, but there was a crack in the plywood that if coaxed properly, would open just far enough for a skinny kid to shove his arm into a small, dank space that was usually full of cockroaches and desposit his lawn-mowing, housepainting, and yardwork money. Now that he was sixteen, he was hoping he could get something like an actual job. For the moment, he contented himself with making sure that it was all there, then hopped down and replaced the clutter on the top shelf, burying his decoy bag of cash in it. It was two dollars wrapped around enough paper to make a nice wad, and he hoped that if anyone did check the top of the closet, they'd look no further.

As Walter was climbing down and banging one bony knee on the doorjamb, Dan was pulling up to Laurie's house. He stopped by the curb, and blinked. "Hey, is that Mr. Mason's car?"

Laurie looked in the direction indicated, and gaped. "Oh. My. God."

"Uh, you okay?"

"No, because my mother totally fucked Mr. Mason. He's probably in there right now having egg in a frame and beer for breakfast." She groaned, and slumped down in her seat. "Once around the park slowly, James."

Laurie was essentially correct, although her supposition had been that her mother had shuffled into the kitchen in her ridiculous little mules with the maribou puffs over the toes and made Hollis breakfast, when in fact, he had woken up first and taken on the responsibility himself. As she and Dan cruised off to nowhere in particular, Hollis was standing at the stove in last night's slacks and a t-shirt that he figured Sally slept in, his hair still a mess although he had wiped the worst of the lipstick off. Sally didn't seem all that interested in consciousness, but he was pretty sure that the scent of coffee would bring her down soon enough. He whistled quietly as he worked, hoping Laurie wouldn't walk on in this but knowing that there was nothing he could do to prevent such a thing.

Sally woke up alone, and the bitterness filled her throat like bile. Before she could sit up and pop half a Valium to deal with being fucked and left yet again, she smelled coffee and bacon, and hopped up, throwing on the robe and mules combo that made Laurie groan in exasperation, and trotted down the stairs, the previously unnoticed tightness around her heart unlocking when she saw that it was Hollis doing the cooking. He must have heard her on the stairs, because he looked over his shoulder and smiled. "Hey, Sal. You want coffee?"

"God, yes." She went to him first, though, wrapping her arms around his waist and kissing his cheek. "Thought you'd gone and disappeared on me."

"I never disappear without breakfast." He turned the bacon. "Although I probably should disappear before Laurie gets back."

"Well, I booked 'em a room for a reason, sugar." Sally poured herself a cup and leaned against the counter, watching him over the rim.

He smiled. "Wish my parents had done the same for me."

"Oh?" She raised an eyebrow, grinning.

"Yeah. Have you ever tried to screw in a VW bug? Not recommended."

She laughed. "I'm just glad they're both good kids. I don't worry about her with them because Walter would gut anyone who so much as looked at her funny, and Dan would hold them down for him and hide the body afterward."

"He nearly took Eddie's head off for whistling at her." He cracked two eggs into the pan. "Hasn't done it since, and you know how hard it is to shut him up. You want one or two?"

"Definitely two. Need to get my strength back." He blushed, adding two more, and she set her coffee down to go to him and start fixing his hair. "Hey, Hollis?"

"Yes?"

"We're doing this again sometime, right?"

"I was hoping, anyway." He murmured, turning the eggs and shivering when she kissed that defenseless spot just under his ear.

"Don't hope. Know. You cook and give great head. I'm keeping you if I can."


	14. Chapter 14

Laurie marched into the house almost immediately after Hollis left, and went up her room to hang her dress up on a stolen hotel hanger, then came back down to the kitchen. "Mother." She stood in the doorway, her face set.

"How come you only call me mother when you're mad?" Sally was half-sitting on the counter, dangling one mule by its maribou puffed toe, swinging it slightly.

"You fucked Mr. Mason!"

"Really, dear?" She pursed her lips and raised her eyebrows in affected surprise.

"I saw his car parked out front!"

"Well, it wasn't supposed to be a secret."

"Mom!"

"Honey." She set her coffee down. "Let me put it to you this way: if he was your age or you were his, wouldn't you?"

"...Yeah." Her shoulders slumped. "He is a dish. Is there any coffee left?"

Dan's parents had received a call letting them know that everyone was crashing at Adrian's. He didn't like lying to them, but in order to lead a mostly untroubled life he sometimes had to. They were happy to hear that he had had a good time, his mother more genuinely interested as his father disappeared behind his newspaper again, content that his son and his car were both all right. Dan accepted half a blintze from his mother even though he wasn't all that hungry, and escaped up to his room where he collapsed on his bed and beamed up at the ceiling. He hoped Walter would come over, because he knew Sylvia Kovacs could kill a good mood faster than anyone on earth.

Dan dozed off, and woke to the sound of a pencil scratching on paper and to Walter's warmth beside him. He purred, and wrapped around him from behind, nuzzling the back of his neck. "Did you come in through the window or the door?" He murmured, biting gently.

Walter whimpered, too distracted to keep writing. "Came in through the front door. Like a respectable visitor."

Dan purred, and licked slowly from the knob at the top of his spine to his hairline and making him squeak. "Whatcha writin'?"

"Nothing."

"You always say that." He hugged him, wrapping a leg over his bony hip.

"Always true." He shivered, pressing back against Dan.

"So let me see." He grinned, because Walter never let anyone see his journal. He guarded it so jealously that Dan hadn't even known he kept one until he'd known him for a year.

"Writing about Laurie." Walter murmured shyly, after a long silence.

"Oh?"

"Write about you, too." Dan could hear the pencil scratching again.

"Maybe you'll let us read it someday."

"Maybe I will." Walter murmured, nibbling his eraser.

"Or maybe I'll just read over your shoulder." Dan was kidding and they both knew it. Walter would kill him if he really did, so he closed his eyes and nuzzled in against his upper back.

"She wears skulls like Kali" Walter whispered, "and holds up the sun like Hathor. Her eyes are chips of ice, and looking into them I see how close love and death really are." He coughed, embarrassed by his writing.

"...The Egyptians said that every woman was a little goddess," Dan murmured, "and I believe them."

"How do you explain my mother?"

"Anything good can go bad, Walter." He hugged him tightly.

Walter flipped a few pages back, glad that he couldn't see Daniel's face. "Continuing the mythological theme." He muttered. "I want him to touch me more than I want anything else." His voice was barely audible. "His hands are as gentle and clever as Isis's must have been, and I know he could bind me up where I'm bleeding. A pity I am not Osiris."

"...Jeez." Dan kissed his cheek. "Uh, if I'm Isis, then you totally are. Osiris, that is. I mean I'd look for you all up and down the Nile if I had to." He paused, blushing. "What made you decide to read that to me?"

"Wanted you to know." He closed his journal, putting it on Dan's bedside table and turning in his arms, pressing his face to Dan's chest. "Writing is clearer."

Dan slid a hand under his shirt, slowly rubbing his back. "I know what you mean." Walter shivered, and pressed against him, melting under the warmth of his hands as the second one came to join the first, igniting the sensitive skin along his spine.

"Jesus, Nelly." Hollis stared as Nelson came into the lounge that Monday, wearing the most beautiful shiner he'd seen in a long time As someone who acted as part time spiritual advisor to Eddie Blake, he felt he was qualified to judge. "What happened to you?"

He went to fill his travel mug with sludgy coffee, blushing. "I fell?"

"...Nelly, that's pathetic." He stood and went to him, lightly touching his shoulder. "Did Rolf slug you? Just because you're not a girl doesn't mean he gets to do that."

"Hollis, you know I was a Marine. I can take care of myself."

"And I know Rolf is about twice your size and meaner than a bull elephant with his balls in a vice. Now, if this is just some weird kinky shit--"

Nelson's flush deepened. "It is."

Hollis relaxed. "Well, as long as you're having fun, who am I to care?" He shrugged. "I've just never seen you with a black eye."

Nelson touched it lightly, the way a person might touch a spot that had just been kissed, his eyes dreamy. "We got a little carried away."

"I'll bet."

"And what about you, Hollis?" He suddenly grinned. "I noticed that you elected to escort Ms. Jupiter home."

"A gentleman doesn't bandy a lady's name, Nelly."

"I'm practically a lady myself. You can tell me."

He laughed. "Quick answers: yes, it was good, no, it was not a one-night stand, and yes, I am completely fine with that."

Nelson beamed and slapped him on the back, sitting at the cheap folding table they had to work with and shuffling through his lesson plans.

"Seriously, though. A black eye?"

"I wanted a split lip to go with it."

"To each his own, I guess. Freak."


	15. Chapter 15

Adrian didn't see much of Eddie for the rest of the year, and he didn't really expect to. He was still around, just aloof, and Adrian decided that being ignored didn't count so much as 'weird straight boy shit' as it did 'things everyone does, god help the human race'. Eddie's psychology was more complex than he had expected it to be upon first meeting him, but he was fairly certain that he would be back. As it was, there was nothing to do but dawdle his way through his finals and get As without trying, just like every other year. He had the feeling that he ought to be doing more with his life, but since he was seventeen until July, there wasn't much he could do about it.  
  
His lassitude seemed shared by the entire school, everyone stupefied by how early and how hot spring had come on. He sat in his A.P. World Literature class and counted the freckles on Walter's shoulders. This was the only class they shared, and he found Walter an interesting study. He sat very still and looked straight ahead even though he was right by the window. He reminded Adrian of early photographs of painfully earnest charity children who really did think of an education as a privilege, and the resemblance touched his heart. Hardly anyone was as sincere anymore. He neatly balled up a slip of paper, and delicately lofted it up and over Walter's head and onto his desk in the precise moment that no one was looking. He enjoyed watching his back shift under thin white cotton as he registered its arrival, ascertained who it was from, and grudgingly opened it.  
  
 _You can see the thermometer from where you are. How hot is it?_ He snorted inaudibly in contemptuous amusement at the cartoony sketch of a sweltering cat that accompanied the message, and glanced out the window. He folded the note into a neat square and dropped it, lightly kicking it so that it skimmed back across the floor to Adrian.  
  
 _105\. Saw a rat on the third rail once with its guts burst everywhere, sizzling and black. I feel like that._ Adrian grinned, and sent it across the floor again a minute later.  
  
 _You have a remarkable gift for imagery. Where's Dan? I haven't seen him in Calc for days._ Walter and Laurie were both crap at math, and were taking something either developmental or remedial.  
  
 _Faking sick._ Came the succinct answer. _New transfer is stalking him._  
  
 _Really? Leslie seems like such an nice girl._  
  
 _Sent him photos._ Walter's usual chicken scratch was gradually becoming an outraged scrawl.  
  
 _Of a compromising nature?_ Oh, he hoped so. Nothing juicy had happened in a month and the withdrawal symptoms were getting desperate.  
  
 _FILTH._  
  
Well, that wasn't very helpful. Knowing Walter it could be vacation snapshots. _You know that if it's actually bothering him it's sexual harassment, right?_  
  
 _Too kind to defend himself. Doesn't mind photos as much as clinginess, pursuit. Also gets embarrassed when Laurie tries to stake her claim._  
  
He barely held in his laughter at the thought of poor, terminally shy Dan in the middle of this. _If his malingering is found out, my house is his. She's a persistent kind of girl._

"Really, Dan." Adrian lay sprawled on his couch as if he had melted there. "We can do something about this if you want."

"Oh, I just don't want to get involved." The ice in his mojito chinked against the glass as he raised his head from the floor to take a sip. "You know me." He pushed his glasses up to his hairline, rubbing the marks on the bridge of his nose. "Avoidant."

"Still. Just because you're not a girl..."

"Oh, hell. We went to elementary school together, Adrian. She's not gonna hurt me or anything. It's just annoying." He laughed softly. "Being the center of attention makes me itch, and Laurie wants to scratch her eyes out."

"Walter too. He's just better at hiding it."

"You think?" And Dan's voice is so fond and dreamy that Adrian laughs, startling Bubastis as she creeps along the top of the sofa, looking lithe and deadly in her summer haircut. Adrian didn't believe in tormenting her for aesthetic reasons, and left only a long tuft on each ear to protect the delicate skin from the sun.

"I do think. Come here, girl. Come to me." He gently lifted her down with his hands under her forelegs, setting her on his chest where she lazily turned three times and curled up. Playing with her ear tufts, he looked back at Dan. "He's actually more jealous than Laurie, since he's less secure."

Dan sighed and sat up, tickling Bubastis under the chin and making her purr thunderously. "I know. We've been working on him."

"You're lucky Laurie's mom is so ridiculously cool."

"God, yes. It's freaking me out because I'm waiting for something horrible to happen."

"Since it's sure to eventually, you might as well relax and enjoy."

Dan chuckled. "I suppose you're right. Dude, who buys your liquor, anyway?"

"I pay my cleaning people extra for the service."

"Seriously?"

"They're all over twenty-one, and very trustworthy. I stand them a bottle while I'm at it, of course." Even with the air conditioning, it was too hot to allow Bubastis to remain where she was, and he set her down, ignoring her soft noise of complaint.

"What do they drink?" Dan asked, thinking of the diversity of Adrian's liquor cabinet as he watched the cat stalk toward the kitchen to investigate her food dish.

"Some kind of rice wine." He yawned. "They're Vietnamese, and miss the local poison."

It was two o'clock in the morning before Laurie knew the other shoe had dropped. She was tossing and turning in a restless dream of showing up to school naked and unashamed, cradling an Uzi in her arms when the doorbell sliced through the scent of cordite and woke her up. She sat up confused and blinking, looking at the clock and wondering who the hell would show up to her house at this hour. And then her heart stopped for a moment, because she knew. She leapt up and bolted out of her room, her nightgown streaming out behind her. She beat her mother down the stairs and opened the door.

Sally wanted to yell at her for not looking through the peephole first, but when a frantically weeping Dan practically fell into Laurie's arms and clung to her like she was the only stable rock in a storm, she didn't have the heart. Since Dan was hiccuping into Laurie's shoulder and obviously going to be useless for at least the next few minutes, she turned to Walter, who was standing there in the open doorway looking helpless.

"Come in, kiddo." He obediently stepped over the threshold and shut the door, and she ushered him over to take a seat at the kitchen table, where he put his head in his hands, looking exhausted. "What happened?" It was too hot for cocoa with brandy in it, so she mixed lemonade and light rum, and set it on the table. "Dan?"

"Y-y-yes?" He sniffled, shaking.

"Come here and drink this." He did, the tremors going out of his hands halfway through the glass. "Okay. Now tell me what's going on." His lip immediately started wobbling again, and Walter took over. Laurie looked helplessly between them, not sure who needed her more.

"Parents find homosexuality objectionable." He croaked. "Previously untapped reservoir of intolerance."

"They threw me out!" Dan wailed, and the raw, betrayed hurt in his voice made Sally's chest tighten.

"Ssshh." She got up and went to him, hugging him around the back of his chair. "It's gonna be okay, kiddo. You can stay here as long as you need to." Laurie took Walter's hand and squeezed it as Dan finished his drink and sniffled to a stop. Walter offered him a faded bandana to blow his nose on and he did, the trumpeting sound making him giggle tearily. Sally smiled. "I think it's about time we all got to bed, don't you?" Dan nodded, and Walter took his hand, the three of them heading up to Laurie's room. Sally sighed, and went to fetch blankets and sleeping bags, since however crazy about each other they all were, it was impossible to fit three people comfortably on a twin bed, even if one of them was as skinny as Walter.

She knocked on the door, balancing her load between the wall and one hip. "Come in." Laurie called, and she did. They were all on the bed, Walter wrapped around Dan from behind as Laurie sat on the edge of the mattress holding his hand and stroking his hair. She kissed his cheek and got up to help her mother set up a pallet on the floor. She added her own bedding to it and she and Walter coaxed Daniel down onto it, Walter pulling off his shoes as Laurie took his glasses and neatly folded them.

"Well," she said when he was as comfortable as he was probably going to get, "g'night, kids. I'm too old to stay up like this."

"Ms. Jupiter." Walter followed her to the door, brown eyes painfully earnest. "Thank you. For everything." She looked down at him for a long moment and then pulled him into a tight hug. For once he was too tired out to be discomfited by it, and took the offered comfort with the grace of a very young child.

"You're welcome, Walter. Always." She kissed the top of his head and was gone.

Seeing him on the verge of choking up completely, Laurie smiled at him. "Turn off the light and join us."

"Gooble gobble, gooble gobble." Dan muttered, and snickered a little hysterically, burying his face in the pillow.

Walter flipped the switch, plunging the room into darkness. He crawled into their nest of blankets and wrapped his arms around Dan, relaxing as Laurie's hand came from the other side to rest on his arm. She wanted to say how sorry she was, but words seemed so useless as to be insulting, so she just squeezed Walter's hand and kissed Dan's forehead, settling back to sleep.


	16. Chapter 16

Dan's parents slept badly in their empty nest, tired out from anger and bewildered sorrow. While not normally particularly observant, it had seemed right to pray, and so they had. Susan Dreiberg had found herself going around and covering the mirrors as though there had been a death before snapping out of it and tearing the cloths off angrily, as though this was all their fault instead of hers. She had known. She had known for years, and had just told herself not to be silly and to give the kid a chance, even though she had been watching him grow up gentle and strange from earliest childhood. There were be times when she really thought he would be all right, and of course she didn't keep him away from theatre. That would have been cruel. She slumped against the wall and then to the floor, keening in agony, her face buried a faded cartoon beach towel.

Her husband had been like a ghost after his initial fury had been spent. Jacob Dreiberg was one of those quiet men who only raise their voices once a year or so, and haranguing his son had exhausted him. He went to his wife automatically, and sat down beside her, pulling her into his arms. He felt numb, and was dimly glad of it. If he actually felt it, he would be wailing too. He felt that his son was a disgrace and a liar, and he would have cut off his right hand to have him back. He wasn't even sure where Dan could possibly go. He hoped to god they didn't end up at Walter's. He had given the kid the occasional ride home, and he had seen his mother and how she lived. The thought caught in his throat like a fishbone, and he surprised himself by weeping, hiding his face in his wife's hair.

Like helpless children faced with the enormity of an unfixable mistake, they cried themselves to sleep, just adult enough to have actually undressed and found their way to bed. They hadn't even bothered to turn off the lights, and woke up in unbearable heat and mocking brightness. Jacob sat up and called his office. He never used all his alloted sick time, and he sounded so horrible when he was honest and cited 'family issues' as his reason for calling out, the receptionist hadn't even let him finish, just assured him that it would be fine and to take all the time he needed. He hung up and groaned, burying his hands in his thinning hair.

"Sue?"

She sighed miserably. "Yes?"

"We have to find him."

After school got out on another boiling day, Sally allowed herself to be overcome by a craving for a certain popsicle subtype from her childhood that was sure to take a few convenience stores to find. The desire was genuine, but the action was prompted by her time spent sharing a studio apartment with another girl and going on endless, pointless walks whenever there was a sock on the doorknob. Since Dan had escaped on foot, too distraught to find his keys, she couldn't very well insist on her rights as proprietress and expect them to drive away. Walter didn't know how, Laurie only thought she did, and Dan would probably go all weepy at a massive intersection and get them all killed.

So when school got out that day and they came almost limping up the steps, Dan muttering fretfully about all the things he should have remembered on his history test, Walter snarling about what he was going to do if Wally offered them any more goddamned sympathy, and Laurie looked exhausted from a day of acting fearless and untouchable while having to prop Dan up every ten minutes or so as he headed for another meltdown, Sally figured the kind thing to do was offer them all cold lemonade and announce that she was going out for a while.

Laurie groaned, and immediately tore off her shirt and sprawled out on the kitchen floor. A lot of really beautiful girls didn't react to the heat, as though it could not possibly touch a creature so divine and therefore didn't. Walter loved her for being part of the world even though no one expected it of her. He smiled faintly as he passed her a sweating glass in response to a limp arm lifted in wordless entreaty.

Even Dan hadn't been able to ignore the heat, which was so bad that rolling up the sleeves of a t-shirt made a difference, and he slumped against the table. "When I can find my arms, I'll join you." After a moment he slid down beside her, pulling off his shirt and balling it under his head. He glanced over at her. "Does a bra make much difference?"

She laughed. "What?"

He blushed. "No, I mean in this heat. Insulation is all about layers."

"Hurm." He looked over to see Walter beside him, holding his singlet up to the light. "My layers are almost gone." It was so fuzzed and threadbare that the ribbed pattern on the cotton was gone, and it was nearly transparent in the light. Walter had been rotating the same four once-white undershirts since the second week of May, washing them in sinks and having to wear them dry sometimes. He felt exposed, but it was definitely better than heatstroke.  
"Jeez." Daniel gently pressed it with his fingertips. "These have been washed out of existence, Walter." He grinned. "Not that they don't look great on you this way..."

"Oh, shut up." Walter was bright red and Laurie laughed, sitting up and leaning across Dan to put the cold bottom of her glass onto Walter's belly.

"You look good in them new, too. And naked." She pretended to think about it. "Really, in or out of anything that shows off how ridiculously cut you are." He snorted. "Seriously. This cup is resting on an eight-pack."

"May be fit, but you two are actually beautiful." He sat up and took a long sip of his drink, Laurie swinging her glass out of his way.

"And you're our funny valentine and we wouldn't have you any other way." Dan murmured, rolling onto his stomach and idly kicking his bare feet behind him.

"Hmph. Mouth perfectly strong. Weakness of nose causes most trouble." He thought about it. "Also enormous Space Marine jaw. But suits me and gives me a bite like a bulldog, so less onerous." Laurie laughed and kissed him, her mouth cool and tasting of lemonade. He purred, setting his cup down and putting chilled hands on her shoulders to kiss back, drowning in her the way he'd wanted to all day. It hadn't seemed right with Dan being kept a perpetual mess by universal and mistimed sympathy, but now that he was safe and it was quiet he could. He usually fought Laurie for dominance, but now he just let her have it, tension melting out of him. He jumped and whimpered as something so cold it almost hurt ran down his spine. Ice. Dan chuckled behind him, and made slow strokes over his back, the cube melting quickly.

"Well, that must feel nice." Laurie teased, glancing down at his lap. "It was like flipping a switch, Dan. Good work." She flashed him a thumbs-up that made him laugh as Walter blushed so badly that Dan could see it radiate over the back of his neck, and he ran another ice cube over the red skin, jarring a desperate little mewling noise from his throat. Laurie kissed him again, holding her hand out to Dan without looking. She smiled against Walter's lips at sudden coldness on her palm, and broke to the kiss to gently swirl the cube over one nipple and then the other. Walter jumped and cried out, his eyes fluttering shut as he put his hands on the floor, supporting himself with shaking arms as they both attacked him at once, marking coolly burning trails all over his body, each separate sharp sensation making his cock twitch in his boxers, a wet stain already forming.

"F-fuck!" He whimpered. "Please!" Walter had a way of turning any game deadly serious, and when he felt Dan's hands on his shoulders, he let his arms give out. Dan lowered him the floor, putting his balled up shirt under Walter's head as Laurie stripped his faded, holey jeans off. She peeled off his sticky boxers carefully, glad it didn't hurt to take off her panties when she was that wet, and he whimpered, shaking.

"You know," she murmured, pulling another cube from her glass, "I wonder if you like this enough" she slid it slowly up his inner thigh, "to keep your hardon." She flicked it so delicately along the underside that it was hardly there at all and watched his spasm. Dan cradled Walter's head in one hand as his eyes rolled back, so he wouldn't smack it against the floor.

"Jesus." He squeaked.

"Yeah." Laurie tossed the cube into her mouth and crunched it, swallowing and then settling herself comfortably between Walter's legs and taking him into her chilled mouth. He clutched at Dan hard enough to bruise him and howled, coming almost instantly. She swallowed and swallowed and sat up laughing to take a long slug of lemonade.

Pointing out that there were condoms and lube in her room, Laurie got Dan to carry a rubbery and only feebly-protesting Walter up the stairs. Since he seemed about to fall asleep, Dan just kissed him and installed him in Laurie's bathtub before going to join her in the other room. She tugged him into the bed, since the way the windows were arranged put it in perpetual shade and made it noticeably cooler.

"Don't you just love it when he comes so hard he practically dies?" She giggled, biting Dan's neck.

"Yeah." He shivered and rolled onto his side to undo the clasp of Laurie's bra. Walter was actually good at it, but Dan was at least dexterous enough that the net amount of fumbling was low enough to be cute rather than exasperating. Today it was closer to exasperating, but all was forgiven when she could press into Dan's hands, kneading and stroking so gently, but not so softly that it just tickled, which Walter was sometimes guilty of. She moaned as he bit her neck, growling softly and rolling her nipples slowly between thumb and forefinger, squeezing until it hurt just a little, then letting go and lightly stroking the sensitive underside, digging his nails in just when the gentleness was starting to itch. She had accused Dan of being a lesbian in a past life, and he had modestly replied that he just liked tits.

"It's too hot for this." Laurie finally panted, both hands fisted in Dan's hair as he alternated suckling and teeth in a way that made her ache and press her thighs together around nothing.

"Mm?"

"Seriously." She gently pushed him off and sat up, wriggling out of her cutoffs and underwear. "Just fuck me, I can't take much more of this."

"Oh. Okay." He stared for a moment and then scrambled out of his clothes as she laughed, digging in the drawer for a condom and finding one, although it was obviously about time to visit the clinic again. She tossed it to him and turned away, going up on her knees and elbows, cupping her chin in her hands as she spread her legs. She wasn't sure why, but both of them had trouble with this. If she was any subtler about it she'd wind up on her back, or riding on top, or doing almost anything else, the whole gamut of which was nice, but dammit, everyone had their preferences.

"Do I have to tell you twice?" She murmured, and shivered as Dan ranged over her back, biting her shoulder.

"No, you don't." He slid into her and she cried out, clamping down on him and moaning, pressing her chest to the mattress and her face into the pillow. She had to rock on him shamelessly to get him to understand how hard and fast she wanted it, but he finally got the point and started to pound her, his hands on her hips holding her in place. She bit the pillow to stifle loud, hungry cries, belatedly aware of just how long she had wanted this. She arched her back and spread wider, clinging to the bars of the headboard to brace herself back against Dan, her voice filling the room when she had to let go to the pillow to breathe.

Dan whimpered, and actually raised up from being wrapped around her to stand on his knees and haul her back, really hammering her for the first time. She had always suspected that she had never gotten him to use his full strength, and now she knew, crying out at the top of her lungs. When he pulled out completely and stayed out, instead of ramming back in so hard she saw stars, she whined and jerked against his hands. She almost didn't hear him when he asked if he could fuck her in the ass, as was too far gone to be embarrassed that her answer was "God, please." She jumped and mewled when he rubbed her cunt slowly, gathering lube. She was completely relaxed and a couple fingers slid in easily. She snapped at him not to screw around and he plunged in with one long thrust that made her sigh and melt helplessly under him. It wasn't long before he had picked up the same pace as before, his fingers sliding into her cunt and bringing her painfully close to coming. Her own hand on her clit brought her the rest of the rest of the way, and she screamed into the pillow, bucking and jerking for a long time. Dan followed, buried deep inside her and almost sobbing with relief. He carefully pulled out, threw the condom away, and tugged Laurie onto her side, holding her close and nuzzling her as she slowly stopped shaking.

"Don't you just love it when you come so hard you practically die?" He murmured, laughing softly. She giggled, and when they could manage to walk again they shared a tangled, clumsy and hilarious shower with Walter.


	17. Chapter 17

Sally loitered outside a gas station licking something that was almost exactly like what she had bought for a nickel before sneaking in to watch the Minutemen serials for free when she was a kid, but not quite, and flipped through the current issue of People, shaking her head over rumored abortions, overdoses, and eating disorders. Cherry syrup dripped down her fingers and she licked at it delicately, wondering if she should try calling Hollis again. She had only gotten his answering machine, and she preferred to tell him about Dan's troubles face to face.

It was providential that he almost bumped into her on his way in. "Sal, fancy meeting you here."

"I was thinking of something I had to tell you." She followed him back into the air conditioning, tucking her magazine in her purse. "What brings you to this neck of the woods, anyway?"

"Uh..." He actually looked faintly embarrassed as he made a beeline for the cooler to grab four bags of ice. "The heat makes me really irritable and there's a firing range down this way."

She laughed and took two of the bags from him. "Does it help?"

"Some, yeah. Thanks, Sal."

"Holding ice is the best possible job on a day like today, sugar. Gonna put it in your bathtub?"

He smiled, leading the way to the counter. "Nah. The woman in 4B is about a week from her due date and the heat's awful for her. Her husband's out of town so I've been doing some fetching and carrying for her."

"You really are the sweetest man, Hollis. Are you sure you don't have a terrible secret that'll ruin everything?"

"Well, I used to be a cop." He grinned. "That's about the extent of my sins."

"I think I'll have to let it slide." Hollis settled up and she helped him carry the bags out to his car. "Hollis, I hate to say it, but I've got some bad news."

"How bad?" He asked, looking up from where he was tucking them into the trunk.

"Pretty bad. Dan's parents have thrown him out, but he's safe at my place and they're probably gonna be sorry soon."

He slammed the trunk and leaned on it. "Weeping, creeping Jesus. What for?"

"They caught him with Walter." She sighed, resting a hand on his shoulders. 

"To think I killed all those targets for nothing." He sighed. "Come on. Ride with me and tell me the whole thing."

She did, and Hollis groaned and wondered why in the hell two people as reasonable and kind as Jacob and Susan Dreiberg would do something so stupid. Sally helped him tote the ice up the stairs to the grateful little woman in 4B, very young and a recent transplant from the midwest who was about as big as a house. Sally sympathized, remembering how bad it had been to be so big in the heat, and followed Hollis across the hall so he could call Jacob and yell at him.

Jacob had already called an analyst friend of his who told him that it was his problem and not Daniel's if the kid was gay, and that they should find him and talk to him, although he was perfectly within his rights to tell them to blow. He had thanked him for giving his professional opinion for free at seven in the morning, and had spent the rest of the day looking for phone numbers, cursing himself for being so uninvolved. Adrian wasn't at home to pick up and tell them to call Laurie, and the contact sheet for Phantom was long gone. He had finally found Laurie's number in a water-spotted notebook, and the phone jumped under his hand, its ringing horribly sudden and loud. Badly startled, he picked it up, strangely certain that it would be Dan. Instead it was Hollis Mason, reassuring him and chewing him out at the same time. And then Sally got on and made him cry and agree to meet her there.

"Back to headquarters, Nite Owl!" She yelled, bolting down the stairs. 

He followed, laughing against his will. "Sure thing, Silk Spectre! You watched those too?"

She grinned, hopping into the shotgun seat as he unlocked the door. "Sure I did. I was craving something like those horrible cherry ice pops they'd sell by the theatre in summer." He chuckled, pulling out of the parking lot. "You know, the ones where the flavoring was so cheap they tasted like maraschino cough syrup?"

"Sal, do you think it'll be all right?"

"Yeah. He sounded pretty sorry."

Of course it was awkward. Dan was just glad that he had hauled himself out of cool water and the grip of Laurie and Walter's tangled limbs. Pleasant as it would be to fall asleep in the tub with them, waking up with cramps in about seventeen places would not be, so he got up and helped them both out, the three of them laughing and fighting over two towels. Walter's prudishness was actually a great help for once, because he insisted on dressing again to go down to the kitchen, so they weren't standing there naked when Sally rang the bells.

"Guys?"

Walter opened the door, back in his wifebeater and now wearing the bottom half of a set of Laurie's pajamas, which pooled around his ankles and clashed horribly with his hair. "Ms. Jupiter." He glanced over her shoulder at the Dreibergs and Hollis, blinking. "Rude to bar you entry to your own house, but I'm not sure of Mr. Dreiberg's intentions."

"Walter, honey. Would I bring them if they weren't ready to talk like civilized people?"

He stood aside and let them in, Sally guiding Dan's parents to the living room as Walter went back to the kitchen.

"Are they--"

"Here? Yes. Finishing sandwich before negotiation."

Dan almost laughed, and looked at Laurie, taking her hand. "Would you--"

"Dan, they were pissed you were gay. Of course I'm going to talk to them."

"...God, I love you both." He murmured, his voice cracking as he blinked hard, not wanting to go to pieces again.

"Good." Walter muttered, standing and licking his fingers. "Come on." Dan took his hand without letting go of Laurie's, and the three of them made their way into the living room and onto Sally's massive couch. There was a loveseat facing it, and Dan's parents sat holding hands, looking more bewildered than hostile. Sally ducked out again and pulled Hollis into the kitchen, where they lurked and drank Old Fashioneds, listening to the unintelligible murmur of a rational discussion. Stirring the ice in her glass, Sally said that if the conversation got loud enough to understand, they should probably go and break it up.

"Laurel, do you think we could discuss this alone?" Susan asked, not wanting to bring anyone else in on it. Her eyes were a lot like her son's, and it gave Laurie a pang to have to blow her mind again in so short a time.

"No, Mrs. Dreiberg." She squeezed Dan's hand. "Because I'm in on it too."

"...What?"

Dan's voice was surprisingly strong as he answered. "Well, Mom, if you'd listened instead of crying about how it was all your fault and you'd never have grandchildren, I could've told you that I'm not gay."

"But we found you--!"

"I'd really like to know what you were doing up at two am, anyway." He softened. "Not that you don't have a right to wander around in your own house, but you're usually out by then."

"We got a phone call." Jacob shrugged. "No one was there, but your mother couldn't get back to sleep." He looked down and his wife squeezed his hand. "Decided to check on you." He suddenly choked. "There's a lot you haven't told us, son."

"Don't you make him feel like a liar." Walter snapped, suddenly furious. "He didn't tell you because he was afraid this would happen and he was right." He clamped his mouth shut to keep it from wobbling. It wasn't right to be so upset himself. Even if the Dreibergs were kind of like his parents, they actually were Dan's, and that had to feel worse.

Dan rubbed his thumb almost absently over the back of Walter's hand, the rhythm slow and soothing. "Well, saying I was going to Prom stag with my best friend was a direct lie." He sighed. "I went with my boyfriend and my girlfriend, and I guess maybe you had a right to know that."

"So you're not actually gay, then."

"I think half is enough for most people, Dad." He suddenly bowed his head, weeping again and squeezing Walter and Laurie's hands tightly. "I hope it isn't too much for you." After that, there was no choice but to go to their boy and pull him into their arms.

Laurie swallowed around the lump in her throat, and took Walter's hand. "Come on, Red. I think we've done our part here today." He nodded, and followed her up to her room, where they curled up together on the bed, Laurie holding him as shivered and did not cry.

Sally knocked on the doorway of the living room a while later. "Knock, knock. Anybody dead?"

Dan laughed, the sound watery as he scrubbed at his eyes. "Not that I know of." He went upstairs to get his things and say goodbye, while Sally fixed the Dreibergs a drink and they thanked her for taking better care of their son than they had. Hollis leaned against the counter and didn't say anything, suffused in the warm glow of Everything Turning Out All Right After All. When Dan came down he smiled at him and didn't have to say anything. He shook Jacob's hand and accepted a brief, fluttery hug from Susan, suffused in the scent of sweet talcum before she went upstairs to gather Walter into her arms and let him know that he still had her to look after him. Walter had always tugged at her heart because he was such a good boy. His home wasn't safe and his mother didn't love him, and it hadn't been enough to turn him bad. She would have agreed with Sally's private assessment that it had driven him a bit nuts, but he was honest and thoughtful and she hated herself for hurting him.

Laurie sat on the edge of her bed, not really sure what to do until Mrs. Dreiberg let Walter go and hugged her too. She didn't think this was a woman who gave hugs to unprincipled sluts, so she hugged back. When she left, Walter swallowed hard, and Laurie wrapped around him again.

"You gonna be okay?" She ran her fingertips through Walter's close-cropped hair

"...Yeah."

"Good."

Sally sighed, looking out the kitchen window as the Dreiberg clan drove away. "Well, that wasn't as dramatic as it could have been, thank god." She jumped as Hollis's arms wrapped around her waist. She had nearly forgotten he was there, and hadn't heard him move at all. She relaxed instantly, and he chuckled.

"Sorry." He murmured, nuzzling her shoulder.

"It's okay." She sighed, leaning back against him and looping an arm around his neck.

"You're wonderful, you know that?" She just laughed. "No, really." He said, his voice softer as he kissed her cheek. "You've got a heart big enough for the whole world."


	18. Chapter 18

They missed Dan already. Neither of them wanted to say it because it seemed needy and pathetic, but together they were somehow too bony and insubstantial for comfort. She lounged in Walter's arms as he sat propped up by pillows, the bottom of his Civics textbook resting on her hip. The last day of finals was over tomorrow. They had both careened through their math exam to emerge with glazed eyes and a sense of utter hopelessness, too worried about Dan to do well on a test they had been dreading anyway. Walter had lucked out and had had only World Lit and French to deal with after that, both of which he was good at.

Laurie and Ursula were in the same Biology class, so she knew she was getting an A on the final because she had been spoon-fed the whole thing in a nearly inaudible whisper and a few ciphered notes. Ursula had also actually had the sense to just say, "Damned shame" in her Austrian accent, pat Dan's shoulder, and otherwise leave it at that, for which Laurie knew she could never repay her. She had also dug around in her pocket and found a cinnamon-flavored hard candy that she offered to Walter with complete disinterest, comforting them all without really making a point of it until she had to break off and go to her History final. Times like that were the reasons Laurie really did love Ursula, and she wished they had any other classes together.

As it was, she had decided that she was just going to let god sort it out. Walter was actually good at studying, but Laurie had found that she either knew it or didn't, and interference at the last minute didn't do much. She looked up at him, and lightly tickled the side of his neck, making him shiver and flinch.

"Stop it" he muttered, "I'm trying to read."

"Aw, come on." She turned her head and kissed the inside of his wrist. His eyes fluttered shut and the book wobbled. She grinned. "Come on, it's too hot to sleep, and you know all you're gonna know in the morning. Let's get out of here."

Naturally, they headed towards Dan's house. There was some pretense at a walk around the block, and they did actually take a roundabout route so that Laurie could get a neon green slushie that tasted like radioactive lime and divine mercy. It was still about ninety-five degrees and Walter muttered about yellow 5 the whole time he was drinking his half of it, too hot to refuse no matter how hateful lime was. Laurie was wearing the clean singlet from Walter's backpack, and it was essentially porn. It was nice that she knew he was watching and was actually enjoying it.

Laurie was never scared of dark alleys or creepy vacant lots when she was with Walter. She had never met anyone who knew so much about the city, or was so good at avoiding trouble in the streets. She had gone for a well-known shortcut, only to have him throw his arm across her chest to stop her, listening intently. She hadn't heard anything, but had followed him without a word. There were only a few places that registered as humming anxiety in her gut that night, mostly because Dan lived in pretty much the exact inverse of Walter's neighborhood. They clambered up a fire escape to get to the roof of the building opposite Dan's, Rorschach murmuring that his window was probably visible from their perch. Laurie giggled when caught a glimpse of him at his desk, gnawing the end of his pencil as he composed something on loose leaf.

"Y'know, we'd actually see him better if we were lower, I think." She glanced down and nearly fell to her death. "Holyshitlook!" She hissed, clutching at the bars. Walter obeyed, his eyes widening as he recognized Leslie.

"That bitch." He hissed, in a way that made it suddenly easy for Laurie to picture him as a girl. His eyes blazed and he darted away to the building's stairway, climbing up over the roof access doorway like a cat. He crouched there for a minute, poised and making a careful survey of the surrounding area. She saw his shoulders tense suddenly, and in a minute he was down again.

"What?" She murmured, not taking her eyes off of Leslie. She actually had a telescope and a notebook. It was disturbing.

"Phone booth. About two minutes from here if you don't dawdle."

"That bitch. Jesus H. Christ."

"We get those notebooks we can probably get her institutionalized."

"Okay."

They climbed down as quietly as they could, and were only about five feet above her when she noticed them. Walter dropped like a stone, and the sound of his off-brand canvas sneakers hitting the ledge was like the crack of doom. She shrieked and scratched as he caught her arms, keeping her busy as Laurie scrambled down and grabbed her notebooks, her stomach churning at the sight of a Polaroid camera.

"You are one sick bitch, Leslie." Leslie snarled and broke Walter's grip, and Laurie caught her flailing arm. It took both of them to force her down the fire escape ahead of them, and Laurie shoved the notebooks into Walter's hands almost before their feet touched the ground. Leslie lunged at her and got Laurie's unscientific but natural and enthusiastic right cross in one eye. "Can't let you hit a girl, Walter." She breathed, and winced as Leslie landed a kick on her shin.

The fight that followed was quick and dirty, hovering between a fistfight and a catfight. Laurie used Leslie's long red ponytail to bounce her off a wall, and hissed when Leslie bit her arm hard enough to draw blood. She had long, cruel nails, and Laurie started re-evaluating her stance that only sissies scratched. No matter how much pain either of them inflicted, they were nearly silent and so was Walter, none of them wanting to alert Dan to their presence, and Laurie didn't dare turn her back until she had knocked the wind out of Leslie and thrown her to the ground. She managed to walk around the corner before she started sniffling. Walter's shirt was a complete loss and an indecent exposure charge waiting to happen, and she was covered in deep, burning scratches. She was bruised all over and everything hurt.

Walter's hands shook as he pulled his shirt off, carefully putting it on over Laurie's head.

"Thanks." She smiled, her hand pressed to the bite wound.

"Come on." He put an arm around her waist to support her, the leg Leslie had kicked starting to cramp. He looked so miserable that she felt guilty.

"I called it, Walter. I would have been pissed if you had cut in."

"I know that because I would have felt the same. But who knows what kind of diseases she has?" They limped back to Laurie's, and she whimpered quietly as she forced her stiff and aching body to climb back up the way they had snuck out. Walter helped her up, and sat her down on the edge of the bed, going to the bathroom and getting the first aid kit, glad to see it fully stocked. She pulled off both shirts, staring in horror at the singlet, which was spattered with blood. She knew that not all of it was hers, but it was still kind of shocking to look at. She hadn't been in a fight since grade school, and never in anything so vicious. She looked at the journals Walter had abandoned beside her and felt something more fiery than a warm glow of pride in the pit of her stomach. She blinked as Walter sat down beside her, setting the kit open on his knees and unwrapping an alcohol swab.

"This is going to hurt." He murmured. "Sorry, Laurie."

"It's okay. I know human bites and scratches are dirty, and even if they weren't, she's a nasty skank." He nodded, and started with the bite. The burn was bone deep and awful, making her tense and gasp, her toes curling in her shoes. She thought of a million bike crashes from kindergarten on up, and the sting of alcohol and the agonies of embedded gravel, how picking it out sent a horrible cold shiver out over your skin in radiant shockwaves.

"I think that's as clean as we'll get it." Walter murmured, gently sweeping his third pad over the wound and bringing it away drenched in blood. "It's been bleeding freely enough to clean itself out, for the most part." He pressed a clean gauze pad to it and bandaged it tightly.

She smiled. "Very junior forest ranger."

"Everyone should know first aid." He muttered, touching a fresh pad to the longest scratch and making her jump. It seemed to sizzle, and pain wasn't the only reason she squirmed. Walter swallowed, and fought to keep his hands steady, ignoring how hard he was as it started to ache like he had been kicked there. She was so beautiful, her golden skin torn with battle wounds and her mouth set against sounds of pain. She had been so fast, so inventive, and so unhesitatingly brutal. His mouth was dry, and he kissed the scratch. "Proud of you." He whispered.

She giggled, clamping her hand over her mouth, and he kissed another spot about an inch further down. "I'm serious. I liked you because you were strong before I liked you for being beautiful." He pressed soft kisses to all her injuries, trembling with leftover adrenaline and emotion. Each small taste of her blood made him whimper, and she pulled him into a kiss, glancing down at his lap.

"How long have you been hard?"

"Sorry, Laurie. I--" She took Walter's hand and pushed it under the waistband of her cutoffs, guiding it into her soaked panties where his fingers reflexively curled into her overflowing wetness. "...Oh."

"Yeah." She breathed, kissing him again.


	19. Chapter 19

After the first couple pages, Walter couldn't read any more. It was too much like his own journal, and he just rested his head on Laurie's shoulder as she read them over.

"Holy shit," Laurie muttered, "she's got the names of their future children in here. And they're really trashy."

"Of course they are." There were polaroids rubber banded to the inside cover of one notebook, and they made him sick. He was just glad that Dan's bed wasn't visible from the window and that there was only one shot of the two of them together and that it was only a kiss. It was still enough to make him feel violated, but thinking of the things she could have seen and shot made him cold all over.

"You definitely don't name a girl Dusk unless you want her to grow up to be a stripper." She glanced over at him. "Walter?"

"Noting uncomfortable similarities."

"You are not a stalker." She shut the journal and hugged him. "You're obsessive, but you don't set up a fucking observation post."

Walter conceded the point, feeling a little better. The next day they left early and went directly to the principal's office. Mr. Schexnayder was kind of a jerk, but he could keep a school running and brought in more federal money than anyone had ever seen. He also had the good sense to know crazy when he saw it, and as he examined the journals his eyes practically bugged out of his head. He made a few calls and the entire school was treated to Leslie's screaming forced exit. To his credit, Schexnayder had quietly called her into his office in a bid to minimize the inevitable histrionics.

Leslie had other plans, and eventually had to be dragged out by two EMTs who looked as if they really weren't paid enough to deal with this kind of thing. Walter had been right about the notebooks, and by the end of the day, Dan had the uneasy comfort of knowing that Leslie was in the loony bin where she belonged, at least for the moment. He was excused from his English final and allowed to lie down in the nurse's office until his parents came to get him, getting the panic the news had thrown him into under control. "I'm not that interesting!" He would periodically wail, unable to understand how he had wound up at the center of such a mess.

After its intense beginning, that summer was a good one. Walter had pounced on a job at a dress shop and was working ever hour legally allowed. He had turned seventeen in March, but was still covered by the child labor laws. When Dan and Laurie could come to get him he would emerge from the bowels of the building cracking his neck and covered in sweat. The life-sapping heatwave had gone, but it was still hot, and he would throw himself into the nearest available sprinkler, Dan laughing at what a fantastic hobo he would make. Walter bared yellow teeth and tell Dan that after nuclear Armageddon, everyone would be a homeless and those with practice would rise to the top.

Laurie loved them for being an oasis between camps and auditions and Sally's other well-meaning efforts to give her daughter a career in show biz. Being the right kind of pretty took effort, and she was glad that Walter and Dan didn't like it anymore than she did. Hanging over the railing of Adrian's balcony and smoking hashish for the first time, she had realized that the girls she met at these things were not so much like plastic as like jello. She described them as best she could to Eddie, who hulked next to her, staring dreamily out into space. How they were sort of shapeless and quivering, their existence a perpetual cringe disguised as a strut. How they were so--

"Easy." Eddie supplied, and rather than being offended she smacked the railing in triumph.

"Yeah!"

Adrian chuckled, padding out to join them, Bubastis perched on his shoulder. Eddie took the pipe from Laurie's hand and sucked in his hit, eyes closed as he held it in. The pipe was long-stemmed and made of a rich wood that Adrian claimed was purpleheart, and therefore naturally that color, and inlaid with a pattern of what was probably real silver. Eddie offered it to him, and Adrian smiled and gently pushed it aside, stepping into Eddie's arms and parting his lips a breath from Eddie's in something that was almost a kiss. Eddie exhaled softly, passing him a stream of thick, white smoke.

"That is so hot."

Eddie laughed and turned away, hunched over the railing in a coughing fit, still holding the pipe back to Adrian, who took it with a smile. "Why thank you, Laurel Jane." He said mildly. "I'm glad we're pretty enough to be relevant to your interests."

She giggled. "You are so high."

"If only we had a mirror clear enough for one so fair to see every perfect facet of her sun-warmed, slumberous beauty. By which I mean, you are super high." He took a hit, and wandered back through the glass doors whence he had come, calling for Ursula. The only answer he got was her arm, rising up from the couch into which she had sunk. He went to her, leaving Eddie and Laurie to giggle helplessly and sink to the floor, leaning on the railing to stare off into space.

"You totally like to watch, don't you?" Oddly enough, for once in his life, he didn't sound like a complete pervert, which was what prompted her to shrug and be honest.

"Yeah. If you had two girlfriends, wouldn't you want to watch them get it on?"

"Yeah." He paused. "Yup, I'm about half-gay." He sounded so resigned that Laurie burst out laughing again. "No, really. I would definitely watch if I had the chance. Like, them specifically. Which is what's gay."

"Mazel tov!" She leaned onto his shoulder and sighed. "I don't care, if that's why you're bringing it up."

"I think it just happened, but thanks." He put an arm around her and ruffled her hair.

She smiled. "You're an asshole, man. There are way better reasons to hate you than a love for the cock, and I like you all right anyway." She grinned. "What was that Marjoe Gortner said? You're bad, Eddie, but you're not evil."

Things had been tripping along in such dreamy quietude that Adrian was completely unprepared for a jarring four am phone call. As he struggled out of a sound sleep and fought to pry the cat off his face, he caught a glimpse of the clock and his heart sank. If it had been an hour earlier, there would have been the chance of an annoying but harmless drunk-dial, and an hour later could have been a friend from overseas who hadn't bothered to consult a map of time zones, but at four exactly it was all over except for announcements of death in the family. He finally picked up the phone.

"What is it?"

"Adrian?" It was Eddie, and he sounded like he was about to cry, or had only just stopped. Adrian sat up, now fully awake.

"Speaking. Eddie, what's wrong?"

"You remember what you said after prom?"

"I do."

"...She wised up. We're at the ER right now, but I was wondering if--"

"I'll come get you." He was already up and testing the limits of the cord in his search for pants. "Just hang on."

The drive was as unpleasant as such voyages generally are. Adrian usually reacted to the snarled traffic of his city with calm resignation and some amusement, but couldn't seem to find either quality tonight. He cursed fluently as he tried to get to the damned hospital within an hour, and had to blot anxious sweat from his face before he got out. Adrian hated hospitals under the best of circumstances, and when he stepped into the waiting room his chest seized in sudden breathlessness. He didn't tell people about his parents if he could possibly avoid it. When he did, he usually elected to lie and say that it had all been such a long time ago that he barely remembered them. It wasn't even ten years yet, and sometimes when the scent or the harsh light of a hospital hit him exactly wrong, it seemed like it had been no time at all. He swallowed hard, snapped himself to the present, and looked around for Eddie.

There. Curled up on the bench that ran under the window, his head on his mother's lap like a little boy, contrasting sharply with his battered leather jacket. She gazed down at him as she carded her fingers through his hair, and Adrian went to them. Coming closer, he wondered how Eddie had spoken so clearly when he called, with the right side of his mouth gashed up to the cheekbone, black stitches standing out sharply against pale skin.

"Adrian." He sat up, his eyes glassy with painkillers.

"Eddie. Anything further to do here?"

"Nope." He stood and offered his mother a hand up. She looked pale and worn, and as if she was trying to keep back tears.

"I'm sorry to impose on you, Adrian, but..."

"Please, Mrs. Blake. This is no imposition at all." He led them out and left them on the curb, coming back in a moment with the car. Eddie held the door for his mother as she slid into the back, then followed her, lacing their fingers together as Adrian drove off again, willing to let the traffic be as terrible as it wanted.

Adrian glanced in the rearview as Eddie's mother lightly touched his face, her tears finally welling up and overflowing.

"Please don't cry, Ma." He sounded helpless, and his big hands were clumsy as he tried feebly to comfort her before being pulled into her arms and rocked. Adrian flipped the radio on to something quiet and classical, only audible enough to keep him from eavesdropping. He felt like an intruder, and wished he had the glass barrier of a real chauffeur. When Mrs. Blake collected herself enough to thank him, it was even worse. Later in life, Adrian would get good at being thanked, but at the tender age of not quite eighteen it depressed him in a way he couldn't begin to describe.

"Mrs. Blake--"

"Nina, please." She tucked a lock of blonde hair behind her ear with one hand, the fingers of the other one taped.

"Nina, I could do no less."

Eddie let out a watery chuckle and smiled with the left side of his mouth. "Yeah you could, Adrian."

By the time they reached the apartment, everyone was exhausted, adrenaline worn off and only disquiet keeping them awake. Adrian made warm milk with honey, and was pleased to see it have its usual soporific effect. He had a guest room for Nina, and a cot in the office for Eddie, and when he had seen them both off he went back to bed himself, to lie flat on his back and stare at the ceiling, wide awake. He started to list the digits of pi in his head, as far as he could go, and had actually fallen into a light doze before the door cracking stealthily open snapped him back to consciousness. He recognized Eddie's nearly-silent footfalls as he made his way to the bed.

"Adrian?" He whispered. "You awake?"

"Yeah." He patted the edge of the mattress, inviting Eddie to sit down.

Of course, a few minutes later, Eddie was tucked safely under the blankets, curled up on his side with Adrian wrapped around him from behind. He had started to cry, in a quiet and unembarrassed way that clawed at Adrian's heart. For Eddie to be too beaten to even try to pretend he had something in his eye was the worst thing, and he hushed him, kissing the back of his neck and rubbing slow circles on his chest, carefully moving around the bruises.

Eddie spoke in a quiet monotone. "I just... As fucked up as it was, I never really thought anybody was gonna die, before." He sniffled and reached back to cling to Adrian, blunt fingertips leaving bruises that came up like graphite smudges the next day. "Oh fuck." His voice broke up into a sob. "Goddammit, Adrian." He growled, suddenly sounding angry and lost. "God fucking damn it, he was gonna kill her and I got in the way." He sounded almost exasperated, like someone who has patiently sat through the long lead up to a bad punchline. The events of that evening had actually happened, and being too cheesy to believe hadn't made them not hurt. He drew in a shuddering breath as Adrian pressed his palm to Eddie's heart, willing its snare drum rhythm to slow. "Jesus. Jesus Christ." His words dissolved into weeping again, and he keened softly, trembling in misery.

Adrian wrapped a leg over his hip, his arms banded tightly across Eddie's chest. He felt him try to move, testing his grip without fighting. When it didn't give, Adrian felt the tension in him break, and he whimpered softly, both of his hands bringing one of Adrian's to his poor wounded mouth. Adrian kissed the back of his neck and lightly stroked his lips, marveling again at how soft they were, careful to avoid the injured corner. Eddie sighed, coaxing Adrian's first two fingers into his mouth. It hurt to suck, so he just wrapped around them, his heart finally slowing its panicky hammering.

"This is so fucked up." He mumbled.

"Ssshh." Adrian stretched to kiss his jaw, lightly stroking his tongue. "A fucked up reaction is to be expected in a fucked up situation, Eddie. At this point I'll touch you anywhere and in any way that makes you feel better." He kissed the back of his neck again. "And you know I love your mouth."

Eddie was eventually able to let Adrian's hand go, and sit up enough to blow his nose and rub at the salt crusted on his eyelashes. When he glanced back down at Adrian with a question in his eyes, he just held up the blanket for him to get under it again.


	20. Chapter 20

Waking up alone like a fairytale princess put to bed by invisible servants was the last thing Nina was expecting. It took her only a fraction of a second to slot everything back into place in her mind, and she got up and went looking for Eddie. When he wasn't on his cot she nearly panicked, but thought to check Adrian's room and saw them curled up together in a pile, golden and dark and blissfully calm. Adrian's long limbs cradled Eddie and they both looked as incredibly young as they really were. She stood and watched them for a long moment, then ghosted away towards the kitchen before Eddie's stitches made her cry again, intent upon coffee or something like it.

The kid mopping the kitchen floor nearly scared her to death, and the feeling was apparently mutual as he slumped against the counter, his hand to his heart.

"I'm very sorry, ma'am." He said, black eyes flicking over her as he tried to put it together. "Usually it's quiet at this hour."  
She had a moment to understand the incorrect conclusion he was gingerly stepping toward, and cut him off at the pass. When Adrian came down and heard, he just smiled.

"Honestly, Duc. You really think I'm that good?"

"No, Mr. Veidt. But you are very lucky, and stranger things have happened."

After they had gotten their breakfast and gone out onto the balcony to eat it so Duc could get on with his life, they considered her options. Eddie came prowling out to find his mother perusing full-color advertising samples.

"What about this? It's a perfume that we couldn't get off the shelves with a jackhammer."

"...The packaging is like a box of sanitary napkins, Adrian. Go ahead and make it pink, but not hospital pink."

"Ma?" He blinked, rubbing his eyes, his wound looking more grotesque in daylight and with his childlike expression.

"Morning, honey. C'mere." She patted the chair beside her and he went, still not awake enough to object to pet names, or to her hand in his hair.

Adrian studied them, smiling. "I think we've got a place for Nina in marketing."

"Sweet." He yawned, and winced. Nina kissed his cheek, hugging him tightly.

Nina called Hollis at noon, and he shuffled impatiently at one pm, listening to it Nelly's phone ring. He was about to give up when he heard a click, and "Nelson Gardner speaking."

"Hey, Nelly. Nina Blake has finally left her husband. She needs some guys to go get her stuff before he burns it or hocks it for liquor."

"Is she all right?"

"The guy cut Eddie's face with a bottle top, so my money's on 'no'. Figure you could get Rolf to help?"

"I'll ask." He turned away from the phone, and Hollis could hear him calling, "Rolf? Mrs. Blake has finally left her husband and needs us to pick up some of her things!"

"Scheiße." Rolf rumbled, sounding as if he had just woken up. "Wo sind meine hosen?"

"He says he'll help. Meet you there in about half an hour?"

"Great." He briefly considered taking advantage of the concealed-carry permit he had never allowed to lapse, but decided there was no point in making it even likelier that someone was gonna get killed, and headed out.

Michael Blake lurched to answer his door, blearily wondering why the little whore would bother to knock. As soon as he caught a glimpse of the men outside he tried to slam it shut, but Rolf had put one huge foot in the way, the door bouncing off of his heavy boot. His eyes were burning, and he sounded like a lion would if it could talk.

"Nina sent us." He shouldered his way inside over Mike's feeble objections.

The operation was really a very peaceful one. For about three seconds it looked like there was going to be a fight, but Hollis had just said mildly, "Son, you're talking to a bouncer, an ex-Marine, and a guy who's former NYPD. Do you really want to do this?" He hadn't really wanted to do this, and sulked and bitched under Nelson's guard as Hollis and Rolf took out the two pieces of furniture Nina cared about, her mother's writing desk and a rocking chair, and went back to pack her suitcases.

The house made Hollis feel sick, because it was still a mess from the night before. When he saw splashes of brown blood at just the right angles and places to have been left by Eddie as he staggered out the door, he had to stop and lean against the wall, clutching his head in both hands. It was hard work to keep from screaming and running downstairs to pummel the bastard into oblivion.

"Hollis."

"Yeah?" He looked up at Rolf.

"Come. There are little glass animals, and I don't know how important they are."

"She said Eddie gave her the shark." He murmured, rubbing his temples. "And that her grandmother left her the bird. Otherwise she doesn't care." Later, when Mike rediscovered his machismo and leapt on Nelson, Hollis was glad they were both safely wrapped up in his glove compartment. They definitely would have broken when Rolf flung him aside to descend upon their foe like the wrath of God.

Nelly had already kicked Mike in the knee hard enough to drop him and was just doing something dreadful to his arm when Mike was plucked away and off his feet as if by some terrible wind. It was only a moment before Nelly managed to get a good enough grip on Rolf's wrist on the backswing to make him pause, but there was already blood on his knuckles, and Mike was shrieking, less in pain and more in mortal terror. No one ever expected Rolf to be so fast, or to have the muscular grace of a tiger.

He had actually told Hollis over beer once that it was because most guys his size got lazy. There was a glow in Rolf's eyes sometimes that made Hollis shiver, because they looked like the eyes of a berserker. The image of him wearing bear skins and biting his shield would have been funny if it hadn't been so easy to conjure up. Nelson clung to his hand, his blue eyes wide.

"Rolf! Rolf, stop it!" Nelson's voice rose in his panic, and Rolf actually growled, yanking his hand out of Nelson's grip, only to freeze as Nelson slapped him sharply across the face with all his panicked strength. Dead silence followed, Rolf shuddering and panting as he wrestled whatever had come over him back into its cage, a perfect hand print standing out on his cheek. He had been crouching over Mike, obviously intending to beat him through the floor, and stood suddenly, his lip curled in disgust as he dusted off his hands.

"Life is tough, pilgrim." Hollis muttered, standing away from the wall and wincing. "It's even tougher if you're stupid." Mike blubbered, holding his bloody nose with his good arm, the other one sprained by Nelson, and Hollis sighed. "Don't go looking for her. Something like this might happen again, and nobody wants that." He nodded, glaring out of an eye that was rapidly swelling shut, and they left, Rolf apparently perfectly calm again, following Nelson like a very large and well-behaved puppy. "You guys all right?"

"We're fine. Do you need us to come and help unload?"

"Nah. You guys have gone above and beyond the call of duty. Go home, I can have Eddie and Adrian help." He watched them go, Nelly's graceful fingers laced into Rolf's huge paw.

Nelson sighed and ran a hand through his disarrayed hair to put it back in order, sliding into the driver's seat, Rolf already buckled into shotgun.

"Is Hollis gone?"

Nelson checked the rearview. "Yes." Rolf sighed shakily, shuddered and curled into a ball. Nelson drove away, reaching to rub his back at every stoplight, gripping the back of Rolf's neck when he started to whimper softly. "It's okay, darling." Nelson murmured, rubbing his thumb over the pulse in Rolf's throat, feeling it slow. It was like stroking a dog's throat to make it swallow, and Rolf had no choice but to calm, his heart rate too slow to maintain his reactive panic.

"Sorry." He whispered.

"All's well that ends well, Rolf." Nelson swallowed, his own adrenaline making him react in ways he really didn't feel were appropriate, and squirm accordingly all the way home, doing his best to hide it. He parked in their driveway, and jumped when Rolf's hand closed over his knee. He glanced over at him and blushed at the hunger in his eyes, scrambling out of the car and into the house.

Rolf followed closely, kicking the door shut and pinning Nelson to the wall, stripping his shirt off with no regard for buttons or seams and flinging it aside. Nelson whimpered and stared up at him, whining softly and arching in Rolf's grip when he kissed him, desperate but strangely gentle as well, threading his fingers into Nelson's hair and letting him wrap his legs around his waist. He mewled and bucked his hips, the feeling so sharp that it took him by surprise, making him cry out and do it again, clinging to Rolf in something a lot like fear, trembling as he thrust as shamelessly as a hyperactive dog.

"Are you okay?" Rolf murmured, pulling back to stare into Nelson's eyes. He whimpered and kissed him again, thighs gripping him bruisingly tight.

"Take me." He begged, his voice strained. "I can't... I n-need..." He couldn't seem to wrap his mouth around the right words to describe the state he was in, partially because that state was one of mindbreaking lust. He felt like a spring-loaded mechanism going off. He hadn't been in a real physical altercation for years, and sick as it was, his blood was boiling. He thought about SSC as he bit Rolf's neck, and knew he'd feel guilty later for getting of on actual violence, the way he always did. Nelson really couldn't help it. He had stopped going to clubs when he realized that he was getting pushy, driving kindhearted and conscientious sadists to do things that horrified them.

Rolf growled and fisted one hand in Nelson's hair, tugging it sharply and making him let out a wild, stuttering cry. He stepped away from the wall, shifting Nelson in his arms to carry him up the stairs like a bride. Rolf didn't want to hurt him, but pinning him down and holding him in place as he fucked him slow and deep sounded just right. Nelson was hungry and pliant in his arms, taking one hand and putting Rolf's first finger into his mouth, sucking on it until they were in the bedroom and Rolf had pushed him onto his back on the mattress. He trembled, lying there and breathing quietly, feeling like he would come as soon as Rolf touched him and trying to ward it off. He managed to get his pants off with shaking hands and watched Rolf strip, whimpering softly as he crawled onto the bed, carrying their lube.

Rolf spread Nelson's legs, and shivered when they rose to twine around his neck. Nelson jumped and cried out at the first touch of slick, blunt fingers, and moaned when Rolf forced two into him. He loved that feeling, the good kind of helplessness and violation, and nearly screamed when Rolf crooked his fingers, slicking his cock.

"You're not going to last long, are you?"

"N-no, sir." Nelson bit his lip, eyes flying wide again as Rolf stretched him relentlessly. This wasn't as rough as it got. It didn't even really burn, but it was overwhelming. He shuddered and shot a tiny jet of clear precome, crying out when Rolf bent him in half to sink his teeth into Nelson's shoulder.

"That's all right." He growled. "I won't, either." He pulled his fingers out and slammed into Nelson, grinding into him up to the hilt and pinning his wrists over his head as he bucked and wailed. Rolf had meant to go slow, but he didn't have the control left, and pounded him fast and hard, turning Nelson's struggles into helpless spasms, and his pleas into incoherent wailing.

Their first time (if you didn't count the frantic blowjob Nelson had shoved him into a bathroom stall to give him, which Rolf did) had been in his tiny, featureless apartment with the paper-thin walls, and he had had to clamp a hand over Nelson's mouth, growling a promise into his ear that he would take him somewhere he could scream all he wanted. Now his voice scaled up through all his other anguished little cries to the true scream that tore itself from his throat as he came, nearly loud enough to rattle the windows and music to Rolf's ears. He followed him a moment later, groaning and collapsing on him, his weight pressing Nelson into the mattress. He stayed that way until Nelson started to wriggle and make soft noises of complaint. He chuckled, and sat up, resting his back against the headboard and gathering Nelson into his arms, rocking him gently and stroking his hair.

"You always know how to make me feel better." He purred, twirling golden locks around his fingers.

"Are you calling me a slut?" Nelson murmured.

He chuckled. "Kind of."

"It takes one to know one, Rolf."


	21. Interlude I

All these men that he loves (in a completely socially acceptable way, although he is maybe the slightest bit hung up on Fred) will never know what makes him tick, and that pisses him off and makes him feel like crying at the same time. He knows he shouldn’t have come when they called him up. He’s been too pent-up for that. Even if he wasn’t a faggot, the sick mixture of anger and lust that’s been riding him for two weeks of this damnable heat would make him no good in a strip club. But he loves them, and misses them, and Rusty is only here from Seattle for four days, so here he is. The resentment and hunger that simmers off of him in waves keeps the women away. The more timid ones are afraid, the hard ones just curl their lips in disgust before turning away with that little hip-twitch that means “I’m not gonna take your abuse at these rates, honey.” He would know. He’s done it himself, in blue sequins. He’s more than half-way drunk, and feels like storming into the dressing room to steal something trashy. Something made of mesh and silver lamé. He’d strut back out wearing it over his hairy legs and scream for someone to please step up and kick his faggot ass. He growls, sucking down his fifth cosmopolitan.  
  
The guys have moved onto the phase of the evening where lapdances and private rooms are in order, and he’s glad he’s such a gentleman that they know to leave him at the bar, and to not be surprised if he disappears. He slouches against it, staring flatly out at the room. Not for the first time in his life, he wishes he was straight. Or a woman. Or dead. Or at least not such a goddamned pervert. Fuck Adam for not calling back, anyway. He closes his eyes and almost groans, remembering rough hands and the gleam of a switchblade, guilt overpowering his anger but not his lust. He isn’t being fair. Adam had never cut anyone before. He said so, and Nelly is a jerk for arching up into the blade the way he did, for _wanting_ it so badly that he didn’t worry about scaring him until it was way too late. He sighs. It never could have worked out, anyway. Still, he should have done better by the poor kid. He does groan, now that the sound registers only despair, and turns back to the barkeep, blue eyes more bright and intent than they should be when he pushes the glass forward and says, “Hit me.”  
  
As he sips it slowly, still not too screwed up to taste that it’s weaker than the previous ones, he lets his eyes wander over to the bouncer again. He does slow sweeps of the room, so he won’t make eye contact with any of the girls or too obviously look over any of the men, but he always comes back to the man by the door, standing there with his massive arms crossed over his chest. He’s the most beautiful thing Nelson has ever seen, a paragon of quiescent brutality. He has always prized quality over quantity in the meat market, but both in the same package never fails to make him weak at the knees, and this guy isn’t just imposing due to sheer mass and definition. His head is shaved, its aggressive nakedness in constrast to a short beard, and his face is savage and beautiful. He’s poised, and despite his size Nelson can tell that he moves like a cat, or a war dance, or like a force of nature, and he wants to see so badly he can taste it. His piercing eyes are sweeping the room in almost the same way Nelson’s are . So far he’s managed to keep ahead of him, knowing that if their gazes lock he’s going to do something stupid. And may do so anyway, as his gaze flicks below the belt and he’s hard-pressed to keep from panting. To hell with it. It’s too hot and he’s too drunk. He knocks his drink back, and turns again. “Hit me.” He can see the hesitation in the man’s face. “Come on, Sam. One for the road. Have I given you any trouble at all?” He certainly has not. He’s been sulking here for about an hour, and he tips generously. Sam (that is his real name and not a _Casablanca_ reference, although such a thing is not beyond Nelly), agrees that no, he has not, and fixes him something that’s mostly cranberry juice.

Nelson doesn’t argue, because he likes the way it looks a little like blood, and he won’t be drinking it anyway. He keeps his mission objective in mind as he makes his way across the floor, only wobbling a little as he dodges strippers and their clientele alike. Closer, he can see heavy steel-toed boots and his heart does a drumroll in his chest. He stops in front of this beautiful mauler and looks up at him. “Excuse me.” He glances down at him, obviously expecting the meek-looking guy with the wide blue eyes to be coming to him to report someone else’s bad behavior.  
  
“Yes?” He rumbles, and his accent makes Nelson shudder. Later, when they know each other’s names and things are finally quiet, when Rolf tells him about going over the Berlin Wall, he won’t be surprised. Now, he grins from ear to ear and tosses his drink into Rolf’s face and himself after it. He’s drunk, and even sober he wouldn’t be able to match this guy for power, but he’s fast, and lands a good punch to the jaw that really catches his attention. He dodges at first, but Rolf is as graceful and quick as he had thought he would be, and those huge arms close around him, lifting him off his feet and crushing cruelly. Nelson flails and kicks and knocks over a few drinks as they charge to the door, where Nelson grins and pants, licking some of the juice from Rolf’s cheek as he grinds against his leg, rock hard and ready for anything.  
  
“Let’s take this outside, lover.” He laughs wildly as Rolf throws him out to land like a rag doll on the concrete, and comes stomping after him. He moans when one huge fist hits into his jaw, leaving half of his head numb and humming, and whimpers as Rolf lifts him off his feet again and slams him against the wall, pinning him there and staring into his eyes.  
  
“You’re lucky I like this as much as you do, faggot.” And suddenly Nelson can feel him, hot and huge against his thigh. He moans and Rolf drops him, growling at a gathering crowd to go back in and quit rubbernecking. Once they’ve all grudgingly gone, he reaches down and helps Nelson up, cupping his chin in one hand and turning his head roughly from side to side to examine the damage. He groans and sucks Rolf’s thumb into his mouth, his eyes shut and his expression blissful and hungry. “…My shift ends at two.” He rumbles, and Nelson feels a sudden upwelling of tenderness because he sounds so _shy_ about it, and mulishly determined not to show it. He opens his eyes and slips the thumb out, softly kissing his hand and melting inside to see him blush slightly and scowl as if to compensate for it. “…There’s a diner a block from here. I’ll be there at two-fifteen, I won’t be there at two-thirty.”  
  
“Okay.” He’s trembling now, his eyes huge as his anger drains away completely, leaving need behind. Rolf lets him go and he hobbles away, still aching. The diner is a nice little place, and after two cups of coffee and ten minutes of conversation, Nelson is breaking all of his own rules and those of the family friendly establishment in which they find themselves as he shoves Rolf into a bathroom stall and goes on his knees to suck him so deep it hurts his throat. He can’t stop making pathetic little noises, and gets drool on shirt before Rolf yanks his head down and nearly drowns him. After that he’s so hard they have to pretend he’s sick so he can lean on Rolf on the way out. He barely survives the drive to his apartment, and the next day hopefully makes him breakfast, shifting from foot to foot because he’s still so sore and it feels so good. He lets the eggs burn a little because he’s lightly rubbing the cuts on his wrists from the cuffs, fascinated. He can’t stick around on Sunday, though. He has to go home and make himself into the person everyone thinks he is by Monday morning, even though Rolf’s phone number is on his bedside table and he’s wearing the most suspicious turtleneck in the world.


	22. Chapter 22

“Eddie, could I talk to you for a moment?”  
  
The hair on the back of his neck stood up, and he stalked into the office, wanting to stomp. He was scared because he had the terrible feeling that now the catch was coming, and since he would do anything for his mother, he knew that whatever it was he would have to smile real big and eat it. Nobody, not even the kind of eccentric billionaires that just handed people new lives, not even fucking _Adrian_ , the boy king of the fucking Nile did anything for free. He was sitting on his desk, lazily propped on his hands and looking like a fully-clothed centerfold. He had exchanged his customary purple for white, and gleamed in the low light. He was entirely too beautiful to trust.   
  
“What do you want?” Eddie growled, fiddling with the cigarette he wasn’t allowed to smoke in the office.  
  
“Now, Eddie. Is that any way to speak to a friend?” He smiled in a way that made Eddie remember that the devil had been beautiful, and slid off the desk.  
  
“Adrian. What do I owe you?” He was starting to get pissed off. They had fought the night before, Adrian angrier than Eddie had ever seen him, when all he’d said was that he figured he’d go into the army. Now he watched him warily.  
  
“If you insist on couching it in those terms, four years.” He brushed imaginary lint from Eddie’s shoulders, apparently devoted to the nonexistent task. “ you’re going to college, Eddie. I don’t care if you major in underwater basket-weaving, and if you still want to when your time’s up, you can go play soldier in any third-world hellhole you can find.” He stopped and looked into his eyes, his hand dropping to Eddie’s chest.  
  
“…Why does it piss you off so much?”  
  
“Eddie, I don’t like the scars you already have.” He murmured, and kissed the sneer carved into that soft, responsive mouth, so carefully that it didn’t hurt. Eddie shuddered, his eyes fluttering shut. When Adrian’s tongue flicked out to trace the inside of his bottom lip he whimpered, automatically pulling him close.  
  
“Faggot.”  
  
Adrian sighed and nuzzled the underside of Eddie’s jaw, biting very gently. “Should I be taking that as a yes?”  
  
“What happens if I say no?”  
  
“I’m very disappointed, and you’re still my friend.” He nibbled Eddie’s ear, making him gasp.  
  
“No kill satellites?” He whispered, a hand sliding down to grip Adrian’s ass and make him buck his hips for a fraction of a second before he regained control of himself, trailing a fingertip down the side of Eddie’s neck.  
  
“No kill satellites. Come on, Eddie.”  
  
“Do I have to pass everything?”  
  
“You have to actually try, and you know I’ll be able to tell.”  
  
He chuckled, sliding his hand under Adrian’s collar to sink his nails into a certain spot just behind the crook of his neck that always made him melt. “I’ll think about it.” He released him and walked out the way he had come, leaving Adrian to lean against his desk as he made himself stop trembling. He finally straightened his collar and cuffs, and got back to work.

By the time September rolled around, things had settled down. Dan’s parents were capable of having both Laurie and Walter over for dinner, even at the same time, and Nina was living unmolested in her little apartment, which reminded Eddie of nothing so much as the inside of a peach blossom. It made him fucking itch sometimes, but it was a nice place. As was Adrian’s cabin, to which they had absconded for days a time as the summer wore on.

He liked what he had with Adrian, too. Which was to say a definite fondness, but nothing officially beyond friendship. He could go out and nail any girl he could catch, and Adrian was free to do the same. They even made a sort of game of telling each other about their exploits, and if Eddie sometimes felt like his heart would burst from his chest at Adrian’s tenderness, he didn’t say anything. It was just weird that someone who touched him like he was something precious always let him go when he wanted.

He kept waiting to be leashed or hobbled, given something to snarl and gnaw at until he escaped and never came back, but it never happened. He could go at any time. Through the window at three am when Adrian was sleeping beside him like some kind of vision of Endymion or out the front door with real farewells and some new goddamn book Adrian thought he would like in broad daylight, it didn't seem to make any difference.

Adrian kept giving him books in the hope that he could make Eddie more genuinely literate, and damned if it wasn't working. He had already plowed through "Titus Andronicus" for the gore, started Lolita for the freaky shit and stayed for the emotional torment (feeling so sorry for Humbert Humbert that it made him a little uneasy), and was in the middle of Jane Eyre, of all fucking things, and here was the worst part: actually enjoying it.

He found himself feeling sort of angry and cheated when he thought back on the things he had had to read for school. Of course everyone thought literary classics were boring. A shitload of them were, and you never got to read the ones with crazy dismemberment and weird sex. He mentioned as much to Adrian, who had thrown back his head and laughed before telling Eddie things about Greek mythology that practically made his hair curl.

"Why I don't get" he had said later, sprawled out on the floor with Adrian and Bubastis and a book of myths, "is why Hera's gotta be such a bitch. Why can't she just go get some ass on the side herself? And why does she have to take it out on these poor, overwhelmed mortal chicks and their children? Christ, what a cooze."

"I've always thought the same." Adrian murmured, rolling onto his back and taking the cat with him. "Especially since she doesn't seem to have liked him all that much, anyway."

"Still. At least their gods were a kinda cool soap opera, instead of the most boring thing in the world."

The week before school started, Walter showed up at Dan's house with a trashbag and asked Mr. Dreiberg to help him set up a bank account. He had a split lip, and Jacob had the sudden and sickening certainty that Walter had had to fight for his hoard of crumpled singles last night. They wind up having to sit there in the living room counting and banding it, the bills mounding up in uncomfortably stereotypical piles. Jacob was just glad he was beginning a sabbatical that year and had time for this kind of thing.

"God, kid. You really know how to save." He bound another stack of twenty, his hands feeling papery from touching so much folding money.

"Didn't really want anything but possibly." Walter shrugged. He was surprised at the amount that was still in the bag, but he supposed it all added up if you qualified for free breakfast and lunch and mostly entertained yourself for free. And if you had people like Dan and Laurie in your life, who would spring for things like prom tickets whether you wanted them to or not.

Jacob chuckled, stretching his neck. "You're a philosopher and a gentleman, Walter."

"...Mr. Dreiberg?" He didn't look up.

"Yes?"

"This spring. When you found out, why were you so angry?"

"What brought that on?" He held out a hand before Walter could truthfully answer that he didn't know. "No, no, I'm not going to deflect that." He sighed, cupping his chin in his palm. "My parents were Holocaust survivors. Very devout, got through on their faith." He sighed. "Don't know why mine was never all that strong. Anyway, when I went off and became a rebellious beatnik who never darkened the door of a synagogue, they took it pretty hard, and Papa, well... He made some dire predictions about how my son would turn out, should I ever have one." He sighed. "And then some of it went right ahead and came true." He shrugged.

"I see." He upended the bag, getting the last of the bills.

"As usual when I do something stupid, it was more about me than anybody else."

Walter wanted to thank him for being so honest, but didn't know how, so he only said, "It's okay."

Walking out of the bank later, he touched his lip with a meditative smile. The other guy looked worse, and his hoard was somewhere more secure than the top of his closet. He stretched out on Dan's floor to wait for him to get in from the lighting lecture he had actually gone to on campus for no other reason than because he was a geek, and fell asleep in the warm afternoon sun.

A slick, soothing tongue on the wound on his lip woke him. He didn't have any time to panic, because Dan's scent enveloped him so completely that he knew who it was long before he was awake.


	23. Chapter 23

Hollis was taking advantage of two things: the fact that summer vacation still had three days left in it, and that Laurie was at Adrian's cabin for the last hurrah of the season. For the next nine months (with some intermission, thank god) Hollis wasn't going to be able to sleep until half-past noon. He certainly wasn't going to be able to do so with Sally cuddled in his arms like a teddy bear, reliably waking up after he did, so he could always watch her for a while, looking so soft and content in her sleep. 

Usually the sunlight through the windows or hunger woke him up, but that day it was Sally's soft, repetitive sounds of distress. He blinked his eyes open to find her jerking and turning weakly in his arms, muttering as her hands made vague warding gestures. It was the tears sliding from under her closed eyelids that made him shake her gently. "Sal. Come on, kid, it's only a dream." Her eyes opened wide, and she sniffled, sitting up and moving away to rest her back against the headboard, grabbing a tissue and lightly dabbing at her eyes before blowing her nose and making a pretty horrible attempt to smile. "You all right?" He murmured, and she nodded, before bursting into tears again. He went to her, sitting up beside her and gently pulling her into his arms again, stroking her hair. He could feel her tears on his chest, and it made him feel like crying, himself. "You wanna talk about it?"

"It's just old stuff, baby." She whispered, still shivering.

"Not old enough, looks like."

She sighed. "It's nothing." Her voice took on the slightly sing-song quality of an unpleasant recitation that must be gotten through as quickly as possible. "Back when I was still trying to break into movies, there was this guy. He was younger than me and we had kind of a thing going on, nothing serious." She stopped to swallow hard, and Hollis wisely didn't interrupt her. "Anyway, I wound up staying a bit after a photo shoot for this godawful TV pilot that never got picked up, and--" She stopped, choked. "He didn't get that far. The guy I was dating wondered what was keeping me and came back and kicked his ass." She sobbed, one hand pressed to her mouth in a way that broke Hollis's heart. "I really did like him, Hollis." She whispered. "I really did, and maybe I led him on, but he just kept hitting me..." She squeaked slightly as Hollis's arms tightened around her suddenly.

"Sorry, Sal." He loosened his grip slightly. "But we've got to get one thing straight: you didn't do anything to deserve that." His voice was flinty and he cradled her protectively, brushing a lock of red hair out of her face. "Not one blessed thing."

"...Okay." She whispered.

"Aw, Laurie, I don't really wanna be in _Romeo and Juliet_." Dan pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose as he spoke. They were slightly fogged, because he was sitting on the closed lid of the toilet to converse with Laurie as she shared a hot bath with Walter. Walter was apparently uninvolved in the discussion, softly singing, "La Vie en Rose" as he painted Laurie's toenails pink. She had no patience for fiddly little things like nail polish, and was glad to leave it to Walter, with his pointed, professional little fingers.

"Come on. You'd do fine on one of the little character parts, like the Apothecary or Paris. It'd be fun."

He sighed. "I miss teching. What about you, Walter?"

He shrugged. "Never done Shakespeare. May as well audition."

In the end, Dan got to hide in the light booth again, feeling as secure in darkness as an owl. Laurie was cast as the Prince, and when she announced her intention to actually try and pass for male, Walter had quietly dropped to his knees, set his script aside, and raised his clasped hands in supplication. "Please don't cut your hair." He had muttered, and Laurie had burst out laughing and promised not to. 

Walter was playing Tybalt, because, as Eddie put it, he was the angriest little elf in Christmastown. Since Eddie was Mercutio, Walter had plenty of chances to vent his aggression, and Dan could only hope he wouldn't kill him for real. It helped that Adrian was playing Romeo, and he just thought it was funny.

Dan was sitting on one of the catwalks. It was filthy, but that didn't matter because he was wearing the dungarees and formerly white t-shirt that were his uniform up here. He was working after hours again, taking a break to kick his dangling feet over the house and devour a Snickers, pondering the exact color scheme for the tomb. He had wanted green, but Adrian had told him that they were doing Shakespeare and not Poe, and Hollis had backed him up. He sighed, seeing the delicate shade of almost-aqua that would have made Janey look so very lovely and so very dead, and shaking his head. Oh well. He had gotten his way about the balcony scene, and that was all that mattered.

And if he wasn't mistaken, he could hear Adrian below him. He blinked, and glanced down at the balcony set piece. Adrian was sitting with his back resting against it, Eddie beside him.

"You'll get the Mab speech, Eddie. It's the best part of your entire role, with the possible exception of your death scene."

Eddie grinned. "Oh, I dunno. _This cannot anger him: 'twould anger him/ To raise a spirit in his mistress' circle/ Of some strange nature, letting it there stand/ Till she had laid it and conjured it down./ That were some spite: my invocation/ Is fair and honest, and in his mistress' name/ I conjure only but to raise up him_."

Adrian laughed. "Figures you'd have all the dirty parts memorized first."

"It's why Mason cast me, man."

"Along with your extraordinary personal beauty."

He hopped to his feet, spinning to centerstage. In Dan's head, a reddish spot snapped on, catching the highlights in Eddie's hair and making him glow. "Do I have to draw you that diagram again?" Eddie's diagram showed considerable drafting skill and was a representation of the flow of gay in their little theatre department. The original was on the back of a children's placemat from the diner, complete with coffee ring.

"I hope you realize that the act of making that thing in the first place was gayer than Liberace's entire life." Adrian watched him with that indulgent smile he seemed to reserve solely for his two deadly pets. Eddie hooted derisively and clambered up the large tree that was the other major set piece.

"Hey, I'm the one that periodically nails something that doesn't pee standing up."

"You're the slut." Adrian shrugged. "There are just fewer available statistics in my case."

"Name one girl. Look me in the eyes and tell me that you have actually put your dick in one girl in your entire life."

Adrian examined his nails. "A gentleman doesn't bandy a lady's name, but I don't suppose Leslie counts, does she?" Dan choked, and broke into a loud coughing fit, making Adrian's head snap up to look at him, all the laziness gone from his frame for the split-second it took his laser eyes to zero in on and recognize Dan. He relaxed. "I didn't mention this to you since I thought it might be awkward, Dan."

Dan thumped his chest lightly, helping his lungs settle down from their ill-advised attempt to inhale caramel-covered peanuts.

"Wait, wait, wait. She slept with you and then kept stalking Dreiberg?!" Realizing how that sounded he blushed and shut up.

"Adrian, I just wish you'd been a good enough lay to make her forget me." They could hear his feet clomping on the metal as he made his way to one of the ladders that would take him down into the wings on stage right, close to Adrian. As he descended the ladder, it made the little ringing noises that were among his favorite in the world. Adrian watched him, smiling slightly.

"Well, if you'll listen to our mutual friend here, it's because I'm too much of a homo." Eddie had gone back to screwing around on the tree, still faintly pink. "Personally, I think I bored her because I presented no challenge." Dan only looked puzzled, so he went on. "I'm already fairly jaded and decadent. You on the other hand, are innocent and corruptible."

Dan laughed. "Well, I don't know about the innocent part anymore."

"Oh, hardly virginal, but I'd still lose to you at 'I Never'."

After Tybalt's death on opening night, Walter came backstage panting. He had to hold his breath while he was a corpse, because he and Eddie took stage-fighting to somewhat alarming lengths. He went to wash his face and jumped when the door opened behind him. Before he had time to panic, he recognized Laurie. She herded him into a stall and pressed his face against the door, wrapping around him from behind and biting his neck, her stage beard prickling his neck like the real thing would.

"Laurie?" He whimpered, and she growled.

"Shake your head if you want me to stop." She pushed a wad of fabric into his mouth when he didn't, and suddenly his head was full of her scent. Panties. Her lucky rocket ship underwear, as a matter of fact. He whined, muffled by the makeshift gag. She slid a hand into his pants, and his eyes flew open as three incredibly slick fingers pushed into him. He relaxed automatically, soft keening lost in the gag as he pressed back against her. He could tell that she must have worked them deep inside herself to get them lubed up, and then he stopped being able to think at all when she braced her hand just above her clit, rocking her hips to drive the fingers into him as he whimpered, spreading his legs wide. 

Laurie sank her teeth into the back of his neck like she was trying to hold him in place and he shuddered, already close. She pounded him mercilessly and caught his come on a wad of toilet paper. He hadn't closed his eyes the entire time, and they stared wide and unseeing as he howled into the gag, and whimpered when Laurie slowly pulled out. She pulled her underwear from his aching jaws and and turned him so she could press his back to the door and kiss him.

"You okay, baby?" She murmured, nibbling his lower lip. He whined, and nodded, still shaking. "Good." She tenderly cleaned him off and pulled his pants back up with her clean hand. He opened the stall door so she could go wash her hands, leaning against the wall as his legs remembered how to hold him up.

"What about you?" He asked, his voice hoarse.

She laughed. "I expect you to make it up to me later."

He shuddered. "Okay." She grinned, and he asked, "Why? Not that I mind, but..."

"I get a little tense on opening night. And I've been wanting to fuck you for a while." She winked as his face went red and sauntered out.

Adrian held it together for their final bow, but went and hid in the same bathroom as soon as he could. Eddie followed him, even though his mother was waiting for him and he was desperate for a smoke, and sighed when he found him curled up under the sink with his face in his hands, shuddering as he tried to control his breathing. Eddie knelt.

"Hey." He touched his shoulder. "It ain't that bad. Come on."

Adrian drew a shaky breath, and raised his face and smiled. "Sorry, Eddie. Just got a little method, there."

"I'll say. Christ."

He laughed, and reached for him. Eddie pulled him into his arms and murmured, "Fie, wrangling queen!/ Whom everything becomes,--to chide, to laugh,/ To weep; whose every passion fully strives/ To make itself in thee fair and admir'd!" He tipped Adrian's chin up and wiped his tears with one calloused thumb. "You're pretty when you cry, but how about turning off the waterworks?"

Adrian laughed. "So you have been reading those books I gave you."

"Damn straight. You okay?"

He nodded. "Yes, it takes me down sometimes. I was the Fool in King Lear, freshman year, and that got rough once in a while."

"Drama queen." Eddie snorted. "Getting me all worried. Come on." He stood and pulled Adrian to his feet. He smiled and leaned on Eddie for a moment. 

"Food?"

"Yes. On your dime, Croesus."

"Only if sushi is acceptable."

"Yes. Come. Buy me squid." He steered him out of the bathroom, making him laugh. 

Later, well-fed and unable to sleep, Eddie sprawled on Adrian's couch and thought to ask him something. "What set you off, anyway?"

"Really, Eddie." He looked up reprovingly from where he was gently making a three-quarters asleep Bubastis dance, her spoon-shaped forepaws in his hands. "I should think that would be obvious."

"Hm?" He slid from the couch to the floor, watching Adrian upside-down like another lazy cat.

Adrian smiled. "I became my character, and then made an unexpectedly powerful mental substitution. Eddie, you are not allowed to die."

Something twisted in his chest at Adrian's words. "I'll do my best, chief."

He smiled, coming to kiss the corner of Eddie's eye. "That's the most I can really ask for, isn't it?"


	24. Chapter 24

"You know, I might save this for Halloween." Adrian looked thoughtfully at Romeo's sword where it hung low on his hip.

"Aren't you like, seventeen?" Walter deadpanned, scrubbing off his cover up with cold cream and a paper towel. Tybalt could have red hair if he had to, but Walter and Ursula both agreed that he'd better not have freckles to go with it. 

Adrian laughed, pulling off Romeo's tunic and shirt, exposing a lithe torso with skin so perfect it made Walter want to scream. "Certainly old enough to understand the power of a whole festival of masks." He looked over at him and smiled. "You would know all about that."

Walter narrowed his eyes and pulled off the top half of his own costume, hating how exposed he felt in nothing but the damnable tights they had to wear. Glancing up, he caught Adrian checking him out in the mirror, and crossed his arms over his chest, ears burning.

Adrian laughed. "Sorry, Walter. You just have a nice ass."

"RRrraall." He sounded so much like an angry, angry Bubastis as he stripped off his boots and his tights and grabbed his threadbare jeans that Adrian had to laugh.

"Adrian, stop sexually harrassing the leprechaun." Eddie was already in his street clothes, sitting on the makeup counter.

"Stop calling me a leprechaun or you'll be picking up your teeth with broken arms, you Montague bastard."

Eddie just laughed, hopping up and heading out the door, stopping only to sink his teeth into Adrian's smooth, white shoulder, making him jump and gasp. "Asshole." He tossed a compact at him, and Eddie just laughed as it bounced off, sauntering away.

Walter snickered, hanging up his costume. "Glad to see that you and your man-wife are getting along so well."

"At least you have the sense to see that he's the bitch." He finished changing and sighed. "Thank god we close tomorrow." He glanced over at Walter. "The cast party is at my place again."

"Wasn't expecting it anywhere else." He picked up his backpack and walked into Dan, who was as usual happy to turn a collision into a hug, and to follow him to what they thought of as their diner to help him and Laurie with the hopeless, Lovecraftian abyss of geometry.

Adrian sat peacefully in the Lotus position, meditating on an empty vodka bottle as if it contained another universe.

"Dammit, just spin the bottle, faggot!"

"Laurel Jane, I may have to prescribe you some soothing incense if you don't calm down."

"C'mon, Laurie." Eddie put a hand on her bottle as she tried to take a swig. "You know tequila makes you contentious." She snorted, but kept quiet as Adrian set the bottle in the center of the circle.

"Who the hell says 'contentious' outside of Alabama, anyway?" Ursula muttered, leaning on Dan.

"My mother, who happens to be from Georgia."

"Where's her accent?"

"She sold it for bus fare."

"Ursula, you're spinning first because you're a pest."

"Bah, this is a complete sausage fest anyway." She leaned forward and flicked the bottle like a petulant cat. Adrian laughed, and Eddie made mystic passes with his hands, willing it to land on another girl. He cheered when it landed on Janey, and Ursula shot him a withering look.

"Don't be mad at a cat for being a cat, man."

"Bah. You're like a dog. A big mangy one that smells bad and steals shoes."

Janey giggled, and beckoned her over. "Come on, let's make his head explode." And they did. Eddie wasn't sure if he should be feeling smug about his successful reverse psychology or if he should be checking to see if his heart was still beating. Adrian grinned at him, and the evening went a little hazy, with bottles and pipes making their stately circuits of the group and tying them all together in a shared state of easy intoxication. Even Laurie's angry tequila buzz, so much like the raised spikes of a porcupine, couldn't hold up to it. 

Walter managed to shelve his jealousy, although he twitched every time it looked like any spin of Adrian's was going to stop at Laurie. He really didn't want to be that guy, the psychotic, insecure, jealous and miserable one that lurks on the edge of parties, darting in only to graft himself to his long-suffering girlfriend; he wasn't, anyway. He trusted Laurie with anyone in the world, but he couldn't trust Adrian with her, no matter how gay he acted. 

For someone as ugly as Walter, his beauty was like salt in a wound. Dan was beautiful, but he had the decency to hide it a little. Walter supposed his fretting was part of the contact buzz he was getting off of everyone who was actually smoking, paranoia creeping in. Adrian pulled away from Ursula, chuckling.

"Well, that was slightly heterosexual of you."

"Your mouth is pretty like a girl's." Ursula murmured, her accent thick. "And I am quite drunk." She blinked slowly, and Laurie giggled. 

"I'll take that as a compliment." He spun. "Lesbian Tested and Approved. Think your mother could whip us up a sketch of a full page ad?"

"Adrian." Jon murmured, having been silent for the past hour. "Why are you Andy Warhol? Stop being Andy Warhol."

"Lesbians hate Andy Warhol."

"And I hate you." Ursula droned, leaning on Laurie. The bottle was still going, since Adrian had flicked it harder than he meant to.

"Goddammit, how long is that fucking thing going to spin?" Walter snapped, more shrilly than he meant to. It stopped, pointing squarely at him the moment the words were out of his mouth.

Eddie grinned. "About that long, looks like."

Adrian smiled, crawling across the circle to Walter, cupping his face in his hands and sighing as he felt his whole frame tense up. "Relax," he murmured, "I'm not going to hurt you." He stroked Walter's cheek with his thumb, and waited a moment. Walter finally looked up at him, eyes clear and intent. Adrian smiled, leaning in to just brush their lips together, feather light and experimental. 

He was one of those people who possess that rare quality of never seeming to hurry. Even at a dead run, he looked more like sped-up film than someone actually exerting effort. His perfect physical poise and flat refusal to join any athletic team of any kind made Bill Brady despair utterly sometimes, thumping his head on his desk in the face of team after team of hard-working, good kids who were full of heart and hadn't even made regionals in three years.

In the middle of their quiet circle Adrian tested Walter's lips like someone dabbling his toes in a lake to check the temperature. Lazily, and as naturally as breathing. He coaxed his mouth open with sweet, insidious slowness, one hand moving to cradle the base of his skull, gently holding him in place as he breathed with him like they were one thing. Dan realized he was holding his breath, and glanced over to Laurie, who watched them like she wanted to eat them both and wasn't sure who to start with.

Adrian was perfectly, patiently still until Walter sighed and swayed just enough to make things less blisteringly chaste, tilting his head back and letting Adrian kiss him deeply, a pink flash of tongue visible as he tugged lightly at Walter's hair, making him whimper. He melted in Adrian's arms like he had never done anything in his life but surrender, like he wasn't Rorschach, the fucking certified lunatic who would fight God if he felt He deserved an ass-kicking.

"Christ" Ursula murmured into Laurie's ear, not daring to really intrude on the breathless hush, "it's like watching a snake charmer." Laurie could only nod.

Walter tasted sweet, and was almost feverishly warm, making hungry little sounds and nipping at Adrian's lips. He was surprised at how little he wanted to let him go, but he was trembling in a fragile way that was going to break into real panic any minute, so Adrian pulled away and smiled. "There, was that so bad?"

Walter just narrowed his eyes at him and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand in a way that made Eddie tense up, hoping he wouldn't have to try and restrain the crazy bastard, because that seemed like a good way to lose an eye. But Dan caught Walter and kissed him like he was trying to taste Adrian on him, and their host called an end to the game, declaring that it was time for children to be in bed, and towing Eddie off with the closest thing to unseemly haste he was capable of.

Daniel was expecting Walter's little meltdown, even if Laurie was surprised, and just sat down on the edge of the guest bed, inexorably pulling him into his lap as he struggled. He held him to his chest and kissed the top of his head and told him that it was all right as he muttered darkly about himself and his mother.

"Goddammit, you're not a stupid whore, so don't act like one!" Laurie lightly smacked his shoulder, crawling to the center of the mattress. "Walter, if we minded you kissing other people, we would have bowed out of Spin the Bottle and you wouldn't have played without us because you respect our wishes. So there, you're not a slut." He laughed weakly at that, and let Dan roll him to lie between them, stretching out beside Walter and putting his arms around him again. Laurie did the same, and he finally started to relax because he had no choice. Being held by both of them at once was some of the safest he had ever felt, and he sighed, slowly melting in their warmth.

"...I hope Walter isn't freaking out." Adrian finally admitted, staring up at the ceiling.

"He better not be." Eddie growled, his head tucked under the pillow.

He laughed. "Eddie, you know how he hates liking things." He rolled onto his belly to crawl over to Eddie and start covering his upper back in kisses, making him growl softly and toss the pillow aside. Adrian bit gently, rewarded with a muffled groan. "Besides, it must really be fucking him up since he seems to think I've been after Laurie this whole time."

"Have you been?"

"No." He nuzzled Eddie's neck. "Although, if you were a girl, she is the girl you would be. And that's hot."

He snorted, finally rolling over and pulling Adrian into his arms. "Like you'd even know what to do, you faggot."

"How many times do I have to tell you? I'm a bisexual who likes purple and cats. There is a slight difference."


	25. Chapter 25

He had to hand it to Nelly. If he didn't know any better, he'd buy it, himself. Hollis was of the opinion that there was a lot of trashy drag in the world, and he was glad that Nelly was part of the solution rather than the problem. He was actually too classy and professional, obsessing over wardrobe, timing, and choreography, and sometimes working himself into alarmingly diva-like swoons of anxiety. Hollis was just glad to be able to sit and watch someone else's amateur theatrics, exhausted from managing his own. And glad that Sally had responded to "Wanna go see a drag show?" with, "Sure. Let me get my coat."

Nelly shimmered in pale blue satin and opera-length white gloves, swishing his white feather boa. Hollis was glad he and Rolf were getting along. Nelly insisted on actually singing, and therefore relied heavily on Nina Simone’s repetoire, since she was practically a tenor anyway. His song choices also unfailingly reflected his mood, hence Hollis’s concern for his domestic felicity. Nelly’s rendition of “I’ve Got it Bad” was a truly soul-shaking thing when he put his whole broken heart into it, and had actually reduced Hollis to crying into his beer. He was pleased to hear the opening notes of “Feelin’ Good”, instead, and to see Nelly radiant in the spotlight.

Sally grinned. “I wouldn’t have thought he had it in him.”

“I know, right? The first time I saw Nelly all done up, I marched over to Rolf to give him a piece of my mind for stepping out on my friend.” She giggled, and he grinned. “At least they were on the street, not in a drag bar or anything. Nelly has never once let me forget it.” They quieted as the lyrics began, and stayed quiet along with everyone else, held spellbound.

Clutching his fake ID, Adrian could hardly breathe. He had known it all along, listening to Mr. Gardner go on about the Treaty of Versailles. He had seen it even then, his gestures stunted by his sportcoats and as much masculinity as he could muster. Which was never very much and which was why he had fascinated Adrian from freshman year. Sitting in the back of American History with his hair in his eyes he had watched Mr. Gardner’s hands, and the carefully controlled movements of his wrists. He had seen the ghost of Miss Angel May Dubois even then, without recognizing her until now. Mostly in the interests of disguise (or so he had told himself) he was wearing a little black dress he had bought for the hell of it a year ago, fishnets, a red wig, and makeup last seen on Julie Newmar. Seeing Mr. Mason and Laurie’s mother in the crowd ahead of him, he was glad he had bothered.

Coming down from the last triumphant note, Nelly smiled at his audience and got started with his patter, acting as MC for the other girls. Angel May’s voice was a soft and very real contralto, made softer still by a slight southern accent that only people who knew him would know was put on. His entire schtick, ironically enough, was to be the straight man. Everyone else was brassier, trashier, more crude, and usually less real. Angel May’s outraged virtue and straight-faced naivete was surprisingly fun to watch, and provided a refreshing counterpoint to the others. She fanned herself, her laugh silvery. “Horses sweat, men perspire, and ladies only glow. Well, I'm glowing so bright I think we ought to have an intermission, don't you? I'll be back in fifteen minutes, with the rest of my beautiful sisters."

Nelly spent most of that intermission with Hollis and Sally, having two cosmopolitans and revealing his claws only once, when a scrawny brunette who was probably on speed hissed something at Sally. He turned in his chair, planted his white pumps on the floor and said, "Bitch, this is Miss Sally Jupiter and if anyone has a right to be here it's her, since the only femininity and grace your skanky ass has ever exhibited was ripped straight off of _Wandering Star_."

After the interloper had apologized profusely and gotten an autograph, Nelly got up and headed backstage to change for the second half of the show, and Sally explained about the weird little sci-fi pilot she had done that _had_ gotten picked up but hadn't really gone anywhere. It was a late-night and public access staple, and now, a cult classic. Princess Andromeda had touched something in countless nascent drag queens, with her fabulous costumes, kabuki-inspired makeup, ludicrously ornamented ray gun, and lines like, "I'll see you dead before you so much as touch the hem of my gown, you Antredian dog!" Hollis grinned and made a mental vow to find and watch the entire run.

"Aren't you a bit young for this establishment, sugar?" The little redhead jumped and nearly fell, wobbling in her kicky black ankle boots, and Nelly smiled, catching her by one elbow. He'd eat his own wig if this kid was even legal to drink in Canada. He was just hoping that it wasn't anyone he knew when the boy turned around with more grace than most jailbait drag queens and turned out to be Adrian Veidt. Nelly had a small moment of hoping he could get out of this anonymously, when he saw 'Mr. Gardner' form and die on Adrian's lips. "Well, that answers my question."

Despite the fact that his actions could lose him his teaching license (if anyone bothered to report it, which no one would) he didn't hesitate, bound by unwritten law. Things were getting better, but a gay bar was still the only surefire place to be yourself, and since just about everyone had snuck into their first bar way underage, it would be the rankest hypocrisy to actually enforce age limits. Besides, he could tell the kid was sober as a judge, so he took him backstage and started trying to make that tawdry wig of his look natural. He was expecting the confessions about trying on Mother's things, and (of course) discovering Wandering Star about two years ago, and he just smiled.

"Honey, what you're going to need a name."

Adrian smiled. "Any suggestions?"

"Well, right now you look like a Kitka or a Ginger or a Pepper. But that's mostly with this wig, which I trust you already know is not quite as becoming as it really ought to be." He ran his fingertips through it. "Never, ever wear orange, kitten. It is your mortal enemy."

"Duly noted. What would you suggest?"

"For you? Black, white and purple. And almost any hair color but this. Platinum blonde would make you a waif, blue-black would make you a vamp." He smiled. "You're just lucky you're naturally glamorous."

"Is this what your gay ass is doing for Halloween?" Eddie leaned on the doorjamb, a cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth.

"Eddie, I'll explore drag if I want to, and mean-spirited commentary will not dissuade me." He spoke through a mouthful of hair pins,sitting on the edge of his bed. He was pinning up a long blonde wig that was much closer to his natural color (and more natural in general) than its predecessor, dressed only in the international slut uniform of bra, panties, and ankle-breaking heels. Eddie chuckled, and came over to familiarily squeeze the right cup with one rough hand. Adrian could feel it, somehow, and fought the urge to purr and arch into the touch.

"You could've gone for bigger knockers, Adrian." The high quality falsies filling out the black lace were about an A-cup.

"On my frame, I felt that would be vulgar." He stood, using Eddie's shoulder for support as he wobbled on his slingback stilletos

Eddie cupped Adrian's chin in his hand. "Damned if you don't make a pretty girl." He growled, his thumb smearing pink from Adrian's lower lip.

"I try." He murmured, and lightly bit Eddie's thumb before pulling away to pull his dress down over his head, careful of his wig. He had followed Mr. Gardner's advice and found something in purple with an almost-but-not-quite empire waist and a few sequins. Eddie's rapt attention while he put it on was a little distracting, and he finally smiled, looking over his shoulder and asking Eddie to zip up the back. It wasn't as though he couldn't reach it himself, but where was the fun in that? 

Eddie purred and nibbled Adrian's ear as he obliged, pulling him back into his arms and kissing his neck. "So here you are. All dressed up with no place to go."

"Practice makes perfect, Eddie." He turned in his arms and smiled. "And what is your bisexual ass doing for Halloween?"

"I figured I'd come to the party I know you're gonna throw and get fucked up."

"Well, it's going to be a costume party, so should I buy you a dress of your own?"

"If you do, make sure it's real trashy."

"Of course, baby." He kissed Eddie's cheek and grinned, stepping away to practice walking in heels, swaying sinuously as he got the hang of it. Eddie lounged on the bed and provided whistles and catcalls of encouragement.


	26. Chapter 26

Halloween had always been Walter's favorite holiday. New Year's just meant dodging his mother and her tricks, and the reek of spilled liquor and vomit. There would usually be some kind of screaming argument, and police involvement was not unheard of. Valentine's day was for grown-ups and the candy was terrible anyway. He felt that it might come to have more interest for him, but that was a dim, hypothetical supposition, like any kind of romantic involvement had been last year. Easter meant more bad candy at school and nothing at home, Thanksgiving often involved a distinct lack of things to be thankful for, and Christmas was just an occasion to be humiliated and frustrated while being cold at the same time. The Fourth of July was the only holiday besides Halloween that had ever been worth a damn, simply because it involved explosives. But Halloween had always meant a night of freedom, fantastic amounts of way better candy than you could find at any other time of the year, and most importantly, a chance to be someone or something else for little to no cost. Every other holiday was improved by money. Halloween only needed creativity and maybe five bucks if you really wanted to go luxe. For a kid with Walter's imagination and lack of squeamishness about dumpster-diving, it was easy to come up with something good every year.

This year was particularly excellent. For the first time since he had gotten too old to trick-or-treat, he had somewhere to go, and people to go with. The program at Adrian's was going to be fairly simple, but that was all right with Walter. Hang around, dance if you felt like it, get high, watch scary movies, and give out candy, because as Adrian said, "Believe it or not, this sterling, upscale complex contains children. Live ones, even." Walter hummed to himself as he stitched his mask, thinking that perhaps that last duty might be better left to others. He held it up and smiled. Walter believed in actually trying to be at least marginally frightening, and he was pleased at how the empty eyes stared, and the twisted mouth leered exactly right. Trying it on, he had been surprised as how easy it was to give himself the creeps. He had only decided to be a scarecrow on a whim, but he had decided to be the best damn scarecrow he could. And the freakiest.

Dan held similar beliefs, and was going as the Grim Reaper, because it was maximum creep for minimum output. Of course, for Dan 'minimum output' meant combing flea markets starting in July until he found the perfect terrifying porcelain skull mask, and making a real scythe. Walter never understood why Dan was impressed with his sewing when he was someone who could actually make things that worked. With Dan's height and his father's plushly funereal bathrobe, the complete costume was legitimately imposing, and Dan was already making plans to keep it in reserve for scaring the shit out of the deserving. Laurie didn’t seem to have an opinion on the subject of costumes, beyond agreeing to film the reactions of Dan’s hypothetical future victims for posterity. She didn't even know what she was going to be yet, something that filled both of her boyfriends with horror. She only had until Saturday night, and Walter was able to stay up late to put the finishing touches on his costume because it was Friday. There would be nothing left in any store, every single secondhand shop would be picked clean, and even the dumpsters would have had a good going over for anything interesting or useful. He shook his head, and laughed quietly at the thought of Laurie just giving up entirely and making a sheet ghost.

At about eight pm the next day, Dan was getting his mask settled when a light scratching at the window made him look over. Crouched on the fire escape was an emaciated scarecrow with a twisted, evil face. Its body was contorted and gangly, every limb set an unnatural angle, and it cocked its head as mechanically as a marionette, black, hollow eyes staring. Dan screamed and jumped back, and Walter laughed, opened the window and coming in. The mask was still disturbing, but he was moving like a human being so Dan could laugh, falling back onto the bed. 

“Jesus fucking Christ!”

Walter grinned and sat down beside him, setting his hat down and pulling off his mask. “Pretty good, huh?”

“Fucking art.” 

Walter beamed, and lightly ran his gloved fingertips over Dan’s mask. “Contacts?”

“Yeah. Death isn’t very scary when he runs into things.” 

Walter smiled and gently pushed the mask up, kissing Dan softly and making him purr. “Or when he makes happy cat noises.”

They were late picking Laurie up, and Sally greeted them with only partly-feigned terror. “I might’ve known you’d show up as a possessed scarecrow, Walter.” She looked over at Dan. “And you as Death. Weeping, creeping Jesus. Come on in, have some of this caramel before I eat it all and explode. ” Reminded of weird but good times, she had pulled out an old Princess Andromeda costume, amazed that she only had to let out the back seam to fit into it. It was one of the most respectable of them all, saved because she had thought she might actually use it for something someday. It was almost classical, essentially a green toga with a few interesting windows of transparent plastic and a chrome belt for her gun. She felt the green patterns painted on her face from hazy memory made it clear enough that grandma didn’t think she was fooling anyone. Dan told her she looked beautiful, making her wonder again if there hadn’t been some silliness with bassinets and if he wasn’t actually Hollis’s son. Walter merely thanked her for the opportunity to attack the Halloween candy, and did so.

“We might be down here a while, boys. She decided about an hour ago that she was going to dress up after all, so I don’t know how long it’s gonna take.”

In the end, Walter barely had time to pocket a fistful of Mary Janes before Laurie came down the stairs, a vision in black leather. Sally grinned from ear to ear, recognizing Andromeda’s flightsuit. It was really the most demure of the three she had been able to keep, in its way. It covered the wearer up to the chin, it just clung. And gleamed, and merged seamlessly with the boots that had gone over so well at prom. The skull choker was also making a reappearance, and she had drawn on a stylized demonic mask with black eyeliner, and her pale eyes gleamed through it like winter dawn. “Well. You need the raygun more than I do, honey.” Sally buckled it on in a moment that felt uncomfortably ceremonial, and it looked real and lethal on Laurie’s hip.

Laurie grinned shyly. "You guys can help me figure out what I am in the car.”

Lucifer greeted Death at the door, and Dan laughed. "Nice. How did you do the wings?"

"If you look closely, you'll see the straps." As he stood back to let them in, Dan could see the light gleaming off of clear plastic, but the illusion was still eerily realistic, the white, feathery wings rising inevitably over his smooth shoulders. An equally realistic rubber snake was coiled around his neck. Eddie was already denuding the candy bowl of everything peach-flavored, dressed as a zombie because all it took was torn clothes and some stage makeup. Ursula came by, the tail of her black cat costume swishing as she grabbed Dan to assist with the VCR.

By ten, things were well underway. Lucifer had bullied the zombie into waltzing with him, and Death, the black cat, and Titania (Janey) were all cowering under a blanket in the face of Suspiria. Jon actually had come as a sheet ghost, and seemed willing to hand out candy until the cows came home. Walter had wandered out onto the balcony, with a strange, edgy feeling. He didn't know what he was looking for, just that something was crawling all over his spine. He turned to look into the kitchen, where Laurie was mixing herself another drink. He smiled under his mask as she repeated the operation and gave the result to Joey as she passed by. Joey was an auxiliary member of the theatre mafia, and built great sets when she could be bothered to. Her hopeless hunger reminded him of his own, and her red hair and tough hands sometimes made him wonder if they were related.

A scream broke his concentration. It was a tiny, shrill sound, not much different from the shrieks and squeals of trick-or-treaters. Even so, there was a note of real terror in it that snatched at his heart, and his quick eyes caught the van, the tiny ladybug that had just left them with a fistful of miniature candybars and suckers, and the man who could not possibly be her father. Laurie saw the scarecrow stiffen, pivot, and bolt back through the apartment, screaming for Adrian to call the cops. He obeyed instantly, dialing 911 and going to the balcony as Dan, Laurie, and Ursula all compulsively ran after Walter, Laurie's boots clicking and Dan's flashing scythe making sure everyone got out of their way. It took seconds to reach the parking lot, where Walter was grimly sprinting after the van, like a terrier nipping at a man's heels.

"Jesus Christ..." Laurie groaned, trying not to panic. "Dan, where the hell are you going?!"

He didn't answer, but she saw him unlock Archie (Dan was the kind of guy who named cars) and leap in, squealing up beside her and Ursula and flinging the shotgun door open.

"Probable kidnapping in progress." Adrian said, watching the station wagon squeal out of the parking lot in hot pursuit, Walter jumping into the back at ten miles an hour. Adrian reeled off all necessary and pertinent information at his disposal for the dispatcher, giving the plate number of the van automatically and then stopping in sudden horror. Later on, in court, she would report that the only time Adrian's voice faltered was when he murmured, "My god, they're chasing Gerald Grice."

Dan was an excellent driver. He was also usually a very safe one, but no one had anything to say against it when he engaged the nitrous oxide injector he had built in without telling his mother and took them up on two wheels around a corner. Walter was hanging out the rear right window, held there only by his grip on the roof rack and by Ursula's grip on his legs as she cursed him blackly in German and Hungarian. He had explained the situation with telegraphic briefness and then gone silent. All he did was tighten his grip as Archie suddenly roared and leapt ahead. Dan's knuckles were white on the wheel, and he was muttering in what later turned out to be Hebrew.

As they caught up to their quarry, Laurie shrieked in horror. They were after the Ted Bundy of the under-twelve set. Gerald Grice was a fugitive, currently the object of one of those giant manhunts. The most recent breakthrough, blared over every channel only a few hours ago was a description of the van and its plate number. She had caught it over the radio with half an ear while she shimmied her way into the bodysuit, and told Dan to run the son of a bitch off the road. He switched back to English to curse, jerking the wheel and yelling for Walter to get into the fucking car. Ursula hauled him in by his rags, shredding them a little further as Dan snapped at him to buckle his goddamn seatbelt or he'd kill him himself.

The impact was a little like the apocalypse, and the scream of metal on metal filled the world. Later, Dan went back to the ditch and calculated their chances of succeeding as well as they did. He had to lie down for a while afterward. As it was, they squealed off the road, shoving Grice's van ahead and to the right, driving it into a soft embankment and bumping their way to a teeth-rattling stop. "Holy shit." Dan breathed, his voice about two octaves higher than normal. Walter kicked his door open and bounded out. They all scrambled after him, and the next few minutes were very confused.

Later, Laurie would remember it snapshots. Walter tearing into Grice like some kind of human buzzsaw. A flash of lethal silver appearing Grice's hand like a malign magic trick. Ursula cold cocking him with a tire iron, looking like a panther above its kill. After that, things got quiet. They could hear the pings of both cars cooling, and the thin, terrified keening coming from the back of the van. Dan crawled into the cab, horrified to find a vehicle perfectly adapted for kidnapping. "Hey," He said, "it's okay, we're gonna get you out." He looked at the sturdy grille separating the cargo compartment from the front seat and muttered, "Though I have no idea how." Hopping back out and finding the factory-issue lock on the rear doors sealed and replaced with a massive padlock, he dug through the glove compartment in search of a key. He let out a childlike, wounded cry when he found six pairs of tiny panties, and nearly fell out of the cab, his eyes huge. Ursula looked up from where she was binding Grice's wrists behind his back. "We're getting her out of there." He said, over the rushing in his ears.

The scythe gleamed like the edge of the winter moon. Dan told the girl to go to the opposite wall, and once she said she had, more muffled than before, He raised it and made two long, converging cuts, looking strangely like the real thing. They all wrapped their hands in whatever they could find and helped Dan yank it out and down. Eight bloody hands helped Blair Roche into the light as the police pulled up.


	27. Chapter 27

"Goddamn, kid. How did you know?" Steve Fine asked for the fifth time, rubbing at his eyes. He had been up since five o'clock in the goddammn morning, yanked out of sleep and into a fucking nightmare, and now this. The perfect fucking ending had been handed to him on a silver platter. Sicko recovered, little girl still alive and still a virgin. Callou callay, oh frabjous fucking day. Still, he had always looked his gift horses in the mouth, and he just couldn't wrap his head around exactly how this had happened.

"I don't know." The kid said, for the fifth time, looking about twelve with his mask off. "I just... I heard a wrong note, so I looked." He shrugged. "I saw."

Fine sighed, remembering a few of his own first experiences on the force, when he had really started to develop that NYPD eye for trouble. "I guess I know what you're talking about." He leaned against his desk, looking as tired as he felt. "Thank god for you, kid."

"Walter?" Susan had been searching for him, and was already close to a complete meltdown.

Fine recognized the tones of maternal panic, and held up a hand. "He's all right. They're all all right."

"Good." Susan smiled brightly, taking Walter's bandaged hand. "Come on, Walter." He could tell she was on the verge of tears, so he obediently set down his paper cup of cocoa and went to her, letting her anxiously stroke his hair as she exchanged a few words with Fine, who told Walter that he ought to think about being a cop. As they made their way out of the building, Walter decided that all in all, he felt good. He caught sight of the Roches on the way, and just nodded to them, a confused impression of dark eyes full of tears and inexpressible joy stamped into his memory forever. Dan and Jacob were waiting in the car, and Ursula was sitting on the front steps, a cigarette burning away between her fingers ("She is hero-child, yes? Let her smoke.") as she rested her head on her mother's shoulder. He waved to her almost absently, and crawled into the back with Dan. They would come back for Archie in the morning. For the moment, they leaned on each other and just breathed as Jacob pulled out of the parking lot.

Sally had seldom been as glad to see anyone as she was to see Hollis. "Hey." He murmured, pulling her into his arms. "You okay?" She nodded, wanting to wrap herself around him but pulling away.

"Aces. The kid's a hero." She smiled up at him.

He slid his hands into his pockets. "Well, if you're done here, your chariot awaits." He favored her with a small, crooked grin, and she went to get Laurie, looking pink and scrubbed, since like her mother she had a tendency to burst into tears once the danger was past, and had had to wash away the wreck of her face paint. She was expecting to have a hard time calming down, and was just staring out the window and wondering how she could ever sleep again when she blinked partially awake in Hollis's arms. "Hush." He murmured. "You're home, kiddo." He set her down gently, and Sally tucked her in, kissing her cheek before tiptoeing away.

Naturally, with her own danger past, it was Sally's turn. She apologized for crying on Hollis, and he told her to go right ahead, snot washes off. It made her giggle a little through her tears, and sit up to blow her nose properly. He smiled, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. "There's the most beautiful woman in the world."

"Stay the night?"

"Of course."

Coming to collect her son, Nina took one look at Adrian and decided that she wasn't leaving without him. The apartment seemed vast and cold, and he looked very small, curled up on one end of the couch. He had swapped his wings for a Ramones t-shirt of Eddie's, and went easily enough when Nina took his hand and pulled him up. "You're not staying here alone tonight, Adrian."

"You don't have to--"

"Go pack an overnight bag. We'll wait."

They watched him go to his room to do just that, and Eddie looked at his mother. "Ma, do you know anything about this?"

"I might." She gazed past him, preoccupied. "You might remember the last time Gerald Grice was on the news, but you were pretty little."

"Wait..." He blinked. "Was that the time you were all paranoid, and we all had to go somewhere with a buddy?"

"Yes." She sighed, rubbing her eyes and sitting down on the arm of the couch. "He's a monster, Eddie. They only caught him because there was some kind of key evidence on the last body." She shuddered. "It was-- in an out of the way place. Adrian found it."

"Oh, shit." He blanched.

"Exactly." She suddenly beamed past him and stood. Adrian gave Bubastis a goodbye headrub and leaned into Eddie when he put an arm around his waist. "We could take her with us." Nina offered, wrapping her arm around Adrian's shoulders from the other side.

"It's all right." He smiled faintly. "She hates car rides."

Eddie's room was cluttered with clothes, weaponry, and books, and pinups grinned and pouted from every wall and the ceiling. After Adrian had been fussed over, fed, and given warm milk, he stretched out on Eddie's bed (just big enough for two) and looked up. "Hey, Eddie?"

"Yeah?" Eddie called from the bathroom, garbled around the toothbrush in his mouth.

"What does your mother make of these?"

He spat. "She doesn't like 'em, but as long as they're not actual beaver shots or anything, she doesn't hassle me."

"I see. I'm also glad to note an appreciation for the classics."

"Why am I so not surprised that you dig Betty Page?"

"The same could be said of you, Pilgrim."

"I hate you for telling me that the Duke wore dresses, man. I'm not sure I can forgive you."

"Oh, please. It was like realizing that Sal Mineo really was in love with James Dean. I've been a fan only since I found out."

Eddie laughed. "Well, you're pretty tough, even in your pretty purple lingerie."

"Thanks." He snuggled under the covers, curling up. He closed his eyes, found what he saw there extremely unpleasant, and opened them again, shuddering.

"Hey." Eddie snapped off the light and crawled in beside him. "What's wrong?"

"I'm just--" He shifted into Eddie's arms, nestling against his chest. "I can't help remembering things."

"Ssshh. My mom told me." He hugged him. "It's so fucked up."

"Yeah." He whispered, and clung to him in silence for the next few minutes. He shivered, went still, and blinked to see a rabbit-shaped shadow on the wall.

"Check it out, I can do a bird, a butterfly, and a bat." Unlike most people who do shadow puppets, Eddie actually did make all three of them look different.

Adrian giggled, and clapped softly. "Do you do birthday parties?"

"That depends. Eddie the Clown needs lots of hookers and blow to function."

Adrian finally really laughed, muffling himself in Eddie's shoulder until he stopped, breathless and feeling much better. Strangely enough, after they had matched their breathing and slowed it down enough to go under the swell of sleep together, Adrian didn't have the nightmare he had been expecting. He dreamed about the sea instead, and woke up on the first morning of November feeling as though he had been washed ashore, with seagulls circling and crying overhead.

The phone was back on at the Kovacs household, and Sylvia's initial reaction to hearing that the police had any interest in Walter's whereabouts was to snarl that he hadn't been in no fights and wasn't going to any goddamned Home. Upon finding out that they wanted him to come to some award ceremony to pick up his Certificate of Appreciation, she threw back her head and laughed. The second caller of the day got more respect. She listened attentively for a moment, and then set the phone down to go kick Walter's door.

"Get up, you've got a phone call."

A moment later he came shuffling out. He had only come home at four am, over Dan's strenuous protests, and was wrapping his ratty bathrobe over his boxers and undershirt as he lurched to pick up the phone. "Hello?" He was cautious. No one he knew ever called him, most of them preferring to just send a message through Dan, whose mother was never drunk and hardly ever screamed at anybody.

"Walter Kovacs?" A woman's voice, soft and slightly nervous.

"Yes."

"Thank you." He could hear tears starting. "I didn't get a chance to say anything to you last night, but God bless you."

"Mrs. Roche?"

"Yes." There was a brief silence, and he could hear her saying, "Now say thank you. It's only polite." in the background before a small voice came on the line.

"Mr. Scarecrow?"

He had to smile. "Yes."

"Thank you. I was really scared."

"You're welcome." It was stupid, but what else does a person say to someone whose life they have saved? The enormity of the deed and the debt are too vast for human language. He talked to Blair for a few minutes, feeling increasingly surreal. She seemed like a thoughtful kid, thanking him again for her mommy, who would have 'gone distracted' had anything actually happened to her. After some murmured prompting, Blair chirped a farewell, and gave the phone back to her mother, who passed it to her husband. He proceeded to make Walter's chest tighten up all over again, telling him to call them if he ever needed anything. Walter promised, hung up, and suddenly scented bacon on the air. Blinking, he tiptoed to the kitchen to find that his mother had cooked him breakfast.

She seemed almost embarrassed by it, and waved for him to sit down, bringing him his piled plate, with the toast nearly burned and the eggs barely cooked, just the way he liked them. "You know how I say you're a fuck up all the time?" He nodded cautiously, nibbling the end of a strip of bacon. "Well, you sure as shit didn't fuck this up." She leaned against the counter, taking a swig of her coffee. "Too many fucking perverts in the world." She raised the mug in a small toast.

Feeling intensely surreal, Walter cleaned his plate and started the walk to Dan's. It was a long one, and served its usual function of calming him down.

Of course, after all that effort, he had to catch a bus to the garage where Dan paid a pittance for a stall of his own in which to tune and repair Archie. He picked his way delicately through the mysterious jungle of parts and the men speaking entirely in car jargon to Daniel's stall. He had told him the number once, and Walter's memory was like flypaper. Everything stuck. He counted his way down to 22, and recognized Dan's legs as they stuck out from under Archie. He was humming "Summertime", and Walter knelt next to him. "How bad is it?" There was a long silence.

"Never, ever do that, man." Dan spoke as he wheeled himself out from under the station wagon. "I've seen a guy give himself a concussion. Make some noise when you come in." He beamed at him, his face smudged here and there with grease from pushing his glasses up and wiping away sweat. "What's up?"

"Mrs. Roche called me." He looked troubled, and Dan blinked.

"Yeah, she called me, too. What's wrong?" He sat up, pulling an old blue bandana out of his back pocket to wipe his hands.

Walter shrugged. "I just... Rorschach isn't a hero, you know?"

"Looking it up in my Asshole-to-English dictionary," Laurie said from the doorway, a cold can of coke in each hand, "I seem to find that 'Rorschach' is in fact, 'Walter Kovacs'. Who is a fucking hero." She sat down on the floor beside them, and Dan grinned, taking a can from her and cracking it open. She did the same, and brought them together with dull clunk. "Cheers."

Walter's mouth twitched, wobbled, and then broke into a smile. "Surprise attack."

Dan grinned. "It's always good to have a surgical nurse, man."

"Hell, if anyone should feel weird, it's me. I barely did anything."

"Followed without hesitation. Read plate number correctly at 65 miles an hour." He took her free hand and gently turned it palm up, as if to show her the cut that ran across it.

She smiled faintly. "I almost think it would be cool if these scarred permanently. Like a blood brotherhood or something."

"And here I thought I was the boys' adventure junkie."

Laurie laughed and found another three quarters to get Walter a soda of his own (always orange or grape, the weird bastard), and leaned against the car beside Dan. "I just hope to Christ this doesn't make us famous. I don't think I can take the talk show circuit."

"I think your mom's got enough class to let you be one of those quiet, modest good Samaritans."

"I hope so."


	28. Chapter 28

Adrian sighed, rolling his eyes. "He's only one year younger, Doctor. Don't get excited." He lounged on the couch in the traditional Freudian style simply because it was comfortable. As far as Veidt Enterprises went, he thought of himself as a company man and submitted to bi-monthly sessions with a psychologist. The idea was to catch people like Lyndon Barlow (who had snapped and gunned down the head of H.R., decades ago) before they killed anybody. Naturally, with Grice's escape from prison he had been scheduled for an emergency one anyway. The scheduling problem meant Wineberg. Adrian thought he was a miserable little bastard, and he thought Adrian was a budding pedophile, and they both knew it.

"I merely wonder, if in connection to your earlier experiences with Gerald Grice--"

"You son of a bitch." Adrian glared, then laughed softly. "Christ, it's like a scene out of a movie. With your goddamn dark-paneled walls and all those fucking Freud texts on the shelf." He sat up, perching on the plush arm of the couch. "Wineberg, if looking up a dead girl's skirt is what fucked me up, I think it would have had a different effect."

"Still, it is interesting to note this interest in women's clothing..."

"You realize I'm only truthful with you to mess with your head, right?" He said sweetly, tilting his head to one side and kicking his feet.

"You're doing it right now!" Wineberg snapped, taking off his glasses to clean them with a handkerchief. He put them back on, and his glare was piercing. "I know you read psychology texts. You're acting like a goddamn Freudian Electra."

"I'd probably look stunning, but I've always been more of a Cleopatra." Adrian batted his eyes and blew him a kiss, hopping to his feet. "And I believe, dear sir, that our golden hour has flown by." He breezed out, grabbed his coat, and headed down the stairs to meet Eddie, who had been loitering around doing god knew what for the last hour and change. He was working his arms into the sleeves of his coat and came within an ace of running into the glass exterior door. Eddie grinned at him, holding it open as he stumbled onto the sidewalk. "I'd have recovered." He murmured, straightening up and adjusting his lapels.

"Sure you would, princess. How'd it go?"

"The usual." He linked his arm with Eddie's, his voice taking on the obnoxious pompous quality that made Wineberg so entertaining or hard to listen to, depending on where your tolerance was on any given day. "Hm, I see you're regularly screwing a guy one year younger than you, you filthy pedophile!" He rolled his eyes and returned to normal. "Also, nightmares about pink teddy bears represent my terror of vaginas."

 

"What the fuck, man." Eddie glanced over at him, his hair wild in the wind that carried away the steam of his breath. "Why does he think you're a pedo, anyway? I'd bust your balls about fear of vagina, but you did Leslie and survived."

Adrian rolled his eyes, going pink. "Kiss one twelve-year-old and you never hear about anything else." He muttered.

"Woah." Eddie stopped in his tracks, shifting his grip to make Adrian stop with him. "What?!"

"Oh for Christ's sake." He buried his face in his palm. "Summer before last I got fucking conscripted to help with a summer camp, this kid figured out he was a queer really early, and--laugh all you like, apparently even children can tell I love the cock--came to talk to me about it. So we talked. For something like two hours. And he asked me to kiss him, since the other boys like him probably wouldn't get it together for another decade. I couldn't tell him that that wasn't the case, since I make it a policy not to lie to children, so I did. The end."

"That's... well, I can only hope the little bastard isn't related to me, because goddamn do we sound alike." Eddie took a cigarette from behind his ear and lit it, cupping his hands against the wind.

Adrian laughed, taking his arm again. "I mean, I went back to packing after he left, I didn't start whacking off." They continued up the street, and he smirked. "Besides, I doubt he'll grow up to be better-looking than you."

"So I won't be thrown over for a much-younger trophy wife?"

"Never." He pressed a kiss to Eddie's scar, the heat of the cigarette dangerously close to the soft skin of his throat. "Besides," he added, "I need to stay on good terms with your mother."

Eddie laughed. "Damn straight you do. You don't want to miss Thanksgiving dinner."

"I'm invited?"

"A two-person Thanksgiving is just weird. And Ma likes to feed orphaned wildlife."

They still had a week of school before the break, and on Monday Adrian lounged back on one of the benches by the stairwell, his legs stretched out in front of him, crossed at the ankle. "See, this is exactly why I opted to go to public school."

"What, to cruise for blue collar hunks?" Eddie grinned up at Adrian from where he was draped upside-down, his knees hooked over the back of the bench. On Adrian's other side, Walter went pink.

"Besides that," Walter choked on his Orange Crush, narrowly avoiding spewing it onto Adrian's shoes, "It has helped me meet the most interesting people. Are you quite all right, Walter?"

He coughed. "Yes." He glanced sidelong at them, and Eddie shook his head, sitting up.

"Man, have you been sleeping all right?"

"No."

"Fancy that." Adrian said brightly, "me neither."

Walter grimaced. "Dream about blood."

"It's pink teddy bears for me."

"Making fun of me." Walter growled, looking as though he was about to stalk off and not speak to either of them.

"No." Adrian's voice softened. "I'm completely serious. Nine pink teddy bears. They've lost their eyes in the dark, and only have holes left. They want mine to replace them." He shivered in the overheated air, and smiled at his own foolishness.

"Jesus, Adrian."

"Yes." Walter looked askance at him. "Are you sure you're all right?"

He laughed. "As all right as anyone else in these latter days." He stopped, sitting up straighter as Mr. Gardner went by. Something in the set of his mouth propelled Adrian to his feet, and he followed him without paying any heed to Eddie and Walter's confusion. He stopped in the doorway of Mr. Gardner's room, suddenly unsure of how to proceed. He had left the lights off and had his face in his hands, sitting slumped at his desk. "Mr. Gardner?"

He jumped and sat up as though he'd been switched, clumsily pretending not to wipe his eyes. "Oh, Adrian. I... didn't see you. Can I help you with anything?"

He shut the door behind him. "That's what I was going to ask you."

"It's... well, it's actually sort of a sordid and I don't think you want to know."

He came over and perched on the edge of the desk. "You just seem really upset." He let that remark hover sympathetically for a while, and wasn't surprised to see Mr. Gardner's lip wobble.

"...How would you feel if you were living with a guy for years, and you found evidence that he had been lying to you the entire time while you were cleaning out the hall closet?" He actually pulled out a handkerchief, and used it to wipe his eyes.

"...I think I would feel more wrathful, but I'd also be very hurt." Adrian sighed, and patted Mr. Gardner's shoulder.

"I can cope with infidelity." He muttered bitterly, then looked up at Adrian. "Oh, you don't want to know about this. Have you found a name?"

He smiled faintly. "So far it's a toss-up between Electra and Calliope." He suddenly grinned. "Got any homework for me?"

He had to smile. "Watch _Some Like it Hot_. Miss Marilyn should prove very instructive."

Mrs. Elmira Henshaw did not habitually judge. At the age of ninety, it seemed somehow unbecoming, and what a couple did behind closed doors was its own business, so after one early and very embarrassing incident, she didn't call the police when it sounded like they were having a brawl. She supposed that what they were doing was old news, and if Betty Page had catered to that kind of taste in the fifties and everyone had lived through it, there was no reason why she shouldn't greet Mr. Gardner (on the few occasions she saw him) with a queenly nod and polite silence on the subject of his various bruises. Now, though. This sounded disconcertingly real. She wheeled herself to the window, laboriously popping it open with gnarled hands, and listening.

"--and two begins to look like carelessness!" Mr. Gardner was shrieking. Really, he was such a girl, but her heart went out to him. Rolf came backing out the door with his hands raised in a helpless half-gesture, the hangdog movements of a man who knows that he deserves what he's getting. He looked around and said something far too quiet to hear. Elmira didn't need to, anyway. It was obvious that he was mentioning the presence of the wider world, that if they were going to fight anymore that maybe they should move back inside. She heard Mr. Gardner's answer loud and clear as he heaved a sloppily packed suitcase at Rolf's head so that he had to stumble down the steps backward and nearly fall to catch it. "I don't care!" He screamed. "Apparently everyone in the world knows our business but me, anyway!" After that it was all over except for Rolf's sad, sloping journey down the sidewalk, the suitcase looking like a toy in his massive hand and only making things more pathetic. Elmira's heart went out to him, and she figured that maybe women and men like Mr. Gardner were stupid in the same way, because she could tell that he only went back into the house to keep himself from running down the street after his lover.

Rolf contemplated stopping by a friendly trashcan and dumping everything Nelly had packed for him. He wouldn't need it if he was going to start moving again. He even tried to implement the plan, but couldn't quite do it, his hand pausing on the latch as his eyes burned. He thought about maybe just forgetting it in a stairwell somewhere, but he couldn't do that, either. In the end he was absently carrying it across his shoulder as though it were a light satchel when he found himself at Hollis's door. He supposed he should have gone and talked to Sally, but the thought made his gut churn with sudden and intense nausea, so he swallowed and knocked. He would rather be shot by an ex-cop than hear 'I told you so' from Sally.

It took a moment, but Hollis finally opened the door. "Rolf." He blinked at him, his hair mussed and a half-finished Heineken in one hand. "...What the hell?"

"Nelly threw me out and I don't have any friends of my own." He stared at the floor. "I just need a moment to consider my options."

"What did you do?" Hollis asked, letting him in only because he had seen that look on his own face a few times and knew how much it hurt. No matter how much you deserved it.

"I'm not saying he's not... justified." He prowled over to the couch and sat down, the suitcase at his feet.

"If you've been cheating on him again--"

"We ironed that out, Hollis."

"Oh?"

"He doesn't mind threeways."

"Oh. Uh..."

"Don't worry, I won't tell you anymore about it." He growled. "Not that it's relevant now."

Hollis handed him a beer, fascinated to see Rolf absently open it with his teeth, as though church keys had never been invented. He looked so miserable that Hollis's voice was a little softer than he meant it to be when he said, "We've got time. What happened?"


	29. Chapter 29

"Wow." Hollis was stretched out on his couch, Rolf taking up most of the floor below him. "Just, wow." He took a swig of his... he counted carefully under his breath. Seventh. He was probably on his seventh. "I mean, I'm not exactly a man of the world, but I can safely say that I get mine, and yet--" He shrugged. "Nothing, zip. It all works, and I haven't been more cautious than anyone else..."

Rolf groaned. "It probably helps that you're actually straight. Less liquor and confusion required."

"Yeah, I have to ask..."

"I met Nina in a bar. She was wearing long sleeves in the heat, and I had to go to her." He stared into his (eighth) beer, looking lost and nearly spilling it down his shirt. "She didn't even know my last name. Left a snapshot of Eddie at my job. Fuck, I don't even remember what I was doing that year. Might have been shucking oysters, for all I know." His accent had been becoming more and more pronounced over the last few hours, and with the sudden addition of held-back tears, he was nearly incomprehensible. "I couldn't process it. She asked for nothing. On the back it just said, 'This is our son.' Gave me his length, weight, and full name." He groaned, covering his face with one hand. "I just put it in my pocket and got on with my life. I had no idea what else to do."

"And Laurie?"

"I've done a lot of weird shit in my time, Hollis." He murmured. "There's an episode of Wandering Star called, 'Terror at Aldeberan.'"

He blinked, then sat up to stare in shock. "Holy shit, you were Ong the Destroyer, weren't you?" His knowledge of the show was far from encyclopedic, but everyone remembered the time the Princess had lost most of her costume to Ong's whip.

"Along with a few other villains of the week, if you look closely."

"Christ." He took a long swig, and set the empty bottle aside. "So you and Sally were-- what?"

"We didn't fucking know, ourselves." He looked at Hollis, trying, however drunkenly, to gauge what he knew and what he didn't. "The little shitkicker who still works in soaps tried to rape her. I stopped it, and that made us closer." He wasn't sure what to make of the look on Hollis's face. Whatever he was expecting, it wasn't to be tightly hugged.

"I love you, man." Hollis muttered. "Here and now, I fucking love you for that."

Rolf grinned. "He had to get a new nose to keep working after I got through with him."

"Excellent." He sighed, looking at Rolf. "Rolf, you're a goddamned psycho. But you're a good guy."

Dan groaned, jolted out of a reverie by the ringing phone. He had his own now, because after their original opposition, both of his parents remembered the hatefulness of trying to have private and sometimes excruciating conversations on a hall phone, and had elected to spare their son. He had been grateful and still was, but winced as he sat up slowly, snagging it out of the cradle and mercifully killing the ringing. "Hello?"

"Dan, are you both there?" Laurie sounded anxious, as if she had been curled up on her bed biting her nails for a while before calling.

"Uh, define 'there'." He looked over at Walter, sprawled bonelessly beside him on the floor. "Walter's pretty out of it."

"Pour him into a wheelbarrow and bring him with you." Silence. "Please."

"Hey, it's all right." Dan murmured soothingly, pulling his jeans over and wriggling into them. His shirt was a loss, having been used to clean up earlier. "I'm putting on pants as we speak. What happened?" Walter made a disgruntled cat noise and curled up on his side, cold now that Dan was vertical.

"I know who my biological father is now... and I'm Eddie's half-sister. Get over here, I am freaking the fuck out."

"Right. Jesus." He gently nudged Walter with one foot.

"Mmrrraarrll?" He opened one eye, hugging the pillow Dan had dragged down from the bed towards the beginning of the festivities.

"Get up, Laurie needs us." Walter rolled up to his feet, cracking his spine like a whip. He still looked half-asleep, but he was hopping into his jeans as Dan hung up with a few final assurances. He blinked, wavering on his feet in a way that made him look about four years old, and as if he was up far past his bedtime. Dan grinned, and lightly pulled Walter backwards into his arms, pulling his undershirt down over his head, and stuffing him into his ratty old hooded sweatshirt. By that point, Walter was awake enough to bat at Dan's hands, and he laughed. "Come on." He led him out to the car, and explained the situation as they drove. Walter had his own issues with paternity, and went straight to Laurie's room when they arrived. Dan stopped to get the full story from Sally, who looked exhausted.

"God save us from drag queens, kid." She listlessly mixed him a drink, less because she thought he needed one than because it was what she did with her hands. "God, you'd think this goddamn city would be too big for this kind of thing."

"So..." He sipped it thoughtfully.

"Who's the lucky lottery winner?"

He flushed. "Uh, yeah."

"Bear with me, this is where things get Jerry Springer. Eddie's mother and I managed to get knocked up by the same confused gay guy over the course of two years. This has all come out because his drama queen boyfriend has found out and lost his shit."

"...Oh."

"I think you mean, 'holy shit'."

"Yeah, I probably do. 

The idea of a shared bath had really seemed too gay, but it was so fucking cold and miserable outside that Eddie had crumbled after about five minutes of consideration. There was a kind of delicious schadenfreude in being immersed in hot water up to his open eyes like a crocodile, knowing that outside it was pissing down sleet. Adrian was sprawled at the opposite end of the (of course) massive, sunken tub. His head was tipped back and his reddened arms were looped up onto the rim to radiate heat. One hand hung down to tickle Bubastis behind the ears where she had come creeping in to enjoy the sauna-like heat.

"How are you holding up?"

He sat up, water cascading off his shoulders. "Well, I'm kinda glad that my father isn't the asshole who beat my mother around and ruined my looks, but it's also really screwed up."

"To me, your scar is part of your charm." Adrian came over too slowly to make the water slop over onto Bubastis, lightly touching it with the pads of his fingers.

"I could probably cover it with facial hair, but you always look so stupid while you're waiting for that shit to come in." He absently kissed Adrian's fingertips. "Nah, the really fucked up part is being Laurie's half-brother. I mean, the time I managed to watch her changing without getting caught is now the sickest thing I've ever done instead of a triumph."

Adrian laughed, settling in comfortably against Eddie's side. "Well, she is an incredibly beautiful girl, and it's not as if you knew at the time." He paused. "You really are insane. Walter would cut off your balls if he knew."

"What do you think was like, half the reason I did it?" This answer sent Adrian into helpless giggles as he slid below the surface, sending up a delicate trail of bubbles. Eddie hauled him up by one arm to find him still amused, and smiled back, pushing a lock of wet hair out of his eyes. “Seriously, though. I’m gonna meet the guy tomorrow. Is it okay if I come back here and get stinking paralytic blue-blind drunk? I might really need to.”

“As long as you don’t break anything or scare the cat too badly.” He insinuated himself under Eddie’s arm, sighing as he wrapped himself loosely around his side, resting his head contentedly on his chest. Looking down at him, something tightened uncomfortably in Eddie’s stomach, the way it sometimes did when he was with Adrian. It was an almost queasy feeling, that made him pick fights and go for long walks at four am. He had seldom felt less like fighting in his life, and it was miserable out. So he just sighed, and rested his lips atop Adrian’s sleek head in something that could not technically be called a kiss.

“Okay.” He muttered, closing his eyes. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

"...I wish you were old enough for us to do this in a bar." Rolf rumbled. He was the first to speak, after about five minutes of awkward silence in a corner booth of the diner.

"Shit, you and me both." Eddie muttered, fiddling with his coffee mug. Laurie laughed, the sound a bright shard that only served to highlight the awkward silence. She looked at them both, and sighed, drawing her feet up onto the the fake leather seat and sucking down another mouthful of sickeningly nectarous strawberry lemonade. Eddie had no idea how she could drink that shit.

"Guys, relax. It's not like we're all gonna move in together or something." She smiled at Rolf. "I have to say, you're way more badass than I thought my dad would turn out to be." He snorted at that, cracking a smile for the first time in the entire interview. "No, really!" Laurie stirred the ice in her glass with one finger. "I figured he was some brainless hunk that had wandered off to do soap operas until his tits started sagging, or a weaselly little producer."

"That might have been better."

"No way! You're a bouncer, tell us a story about stomping heads." She blinked her wide, winsome eyes until Eddie cracked up and joined in, both of them childishly demanding a story. Rolf told them to shut up almost like a real dad, and went on to relate the story of the Halloween Massacre at the Tiger's Cage, in which six drunk frat boys had looked at each other and said, "we can take him" when Rolf had come over to gently remind them that when in a gentleman's club, one should act as a gentleman. The full description of the ensuing carnage was almost an academic lecture on how to disassemble the human form. The eavesdropping waitress hadn't thought they had looked the least bit alike, until they were all the wearing the same wolfish grin.

After that, things rolled along surprisingly well (Rolf's own father had been of a similar make with Eddie's, he loved animals as much as Laurie did, and having been a carnie, he could understand the joy of performance), until Laurie realized they should probably both be heading home and asked for a way to contact him, just for the hell of it. He stopped, reminded of the burning wreckage of his personal life.

"I'm... between places at the moment."

"What happened?"

If Eddie had asked, Rolf knew he would have been able to lie, but Laurie's wide grey eyes, his daughter's eyes, whether he claims her or not, chastened him in a way a boy's couldn't. "You might have heard that my... partner took the revelation badly. It's his house."

"Oh." She looked so guilty that he wished he had lied. "...Think he'll take you back?"

"I don't know."

In the end, she got him to admit to crashing on Hollis's couch, and when they left, she was already planning to get them back together. Eddie groaned, and said she could play "Parent Trap" all she wanted, he was staying the hell out of it.


	30. Chapter 30

"Rolf." Hollis slumped into his armchair, studying the enormous lump on his couch. There were a lot of things about Rolf that set Hollis's teeth on edge, but lying there with Grandma Lynn's quilt over his head with his gigantic feet hanging over the arm, huge and helpless as a heartbroken moose, it was hard not to feel sorry for him. "Rolf, you have to fix this."

"How?"

Hollis growled, pinching the bridge of his nose to ease the headache that lurked behind his eyes perpetually these days. "I don't know, by talking to him?"

"...I never know what to say when he's right." Rolf mumbled.

"Have you tried, 'I'm sorry'? It works pretty well on women." His tone was more acid than he meant it to be, and he sighed. "He looks like shit. He wants you back, but has just enough self-respect to make you call first."

"...How bad does he look?"

"Rolf, he wore white socks with black pants."

The quilt finally flipped back, revealing Rolf's hawk-like eyes and stubbled scalp. He sat up. "I need to use your phone."

"I thought you might." As Rolf got up, Hollis sank deeper into his chair. "Rolf?"

"What?"

"You know that Nelly is basically a woman in disguise. Grovel." His lip curled, but knowing that Hollis was right, he just grunted noncommittally and wandered off to make the call. Hollis got his first beer of the day and tried not to hear the soft, conciliatory rumble from the other room. Evidently Nelly had picked up.

Hollis was correct, and Rolf's call had in fact, interrupted the solitary aftermath of a session of tea, peach cobbler, and sympathy. Most people avoid emotional anguish because it hurts. Nelson Gardner avoided it because heartache made him eat like six starved pigs, but when Mrs. Henshaw wheeled over with baked goods, there was no way to win. He had sort of been glad to be torn away from his third piece, beginning to be queasy. He nearly choked to death on crumbs at the sound of Rolf's voice.

"Nelly?" He sounded more tentative than he wanted to, and cursed inwardly.

"Speaking." He murmured, very evenly.

"...I'm sorry."

"Oh, you are?" He said, cool and poisonously sweet.

"...Yes, God damn it." Rolf whispered, his chest suddenly tight. "I didn't mean-- Nelly, I'm sorry I didn't tell you, okay?"

"One would hope so." His lip wobbled and he hoped Rolf couldn't hear it in his voice. He wasn't sure he'd ever find a way to explain how much it hurt not to be trusted with this, how fucking stupid it made him feel about every single parent-teacher conference he'd had for either of them. "...Rolf, I thought you knew you could trust me." He finally said, and was taken aback at the torrent of tortured endearments the statement seemed to shake loose. A tumbled, broken mixture of English and German, Rolf's small store of tenderness tipped out at Nelly's feet. "Maybe we should talk face to face." He said in the quiet that followed when Rolf ran out of words.

“Look, you don’t want to get mixed up with what goes on between a man and his bitch, Laurie.” Eddie said, lounging on Adrian's couch.

“God, you are such a fucking idiot.”

“Careful, sis!”

“Dammit, Eddie…”

“I have to call you sis so I don’t forget and start wanting to bone you again.”

“You might as well just leer like you always have. I was never gonna sleep with you anyway.”

“Touche.”

Adrian emerged laughing from the kitchen, carrying two tall glasses of something creamy and faintly golden. “Children, play nicely together.” He set his burden on the coffee table. “Or at least pretend to be doing your homework.”

Eddie took a cautious sip from one glass and blinked. “What is this?”

“Soda sữa hột gà.”

“…How many accent marks are in that? Like, nine?”

“Five, I think.” He went back to the kitchen to get his own glass. “It’s mostly egg and condensed milk. I make them at Christmas instead of eggnog.” Laurie tried hers and found it sweet and good, and very welcome after hacking through history for an hour. Adrian tugged her book over to look at it, and sighed. “Have we gotten to Normandy yet?”  
Laurie groaned, thumping her head on the arm of the couch. “Fucked if I know.”

“She’s been busy trying to get our deadbeat dad back with his man-wife.”

“Knock it off! You’re at least fifty percent homo yourself!”

“I agree with Laurel Jane on both counts.” Adrian murmured. “You are about fifty percent homo, and we do have to something about Mr. Gardner.”

“I’m sure he can take care of himself.”

“Eddie, black pants with white socks and half a peach pie for lunch are signs of possibly lethal heartbreak.”

“What are we supposed to do, make sure they run into each other and play ‘Some Enchanted Evening’ over a loudspeaker?”

“Musical reference! Queer.”

“Look, he’s either gonna say, ‘I’m sorry I lied baby, take me back’ or he won’t. And we can’t really do anything about that.”

They might not be able to do anything about Mr. Gardner's situation, but Adrian took it upon himself to at least spy on his meeting with Rolf, having found out about it through his incredible spy network of 'asking Mr. Mason about it'. What he was doing was juvenile, it was invasive, and he felt like a small child playing Batman, but he was concerned, and in Adrian Veidt's frequently (at least formerly) lonely life, that was cause enough for interference. He supposed Eddie was right about his declining years. At least he would hopefully still have the money to endow some kind of nice center for cats, instead of cramming eighty-seven of them into his trailer. 

He shook his head and clung more tightly to his gargoyle. The drop to the ground below might not kill him, but it would certainly shatter his legs and probably his spine, and his perch was icy. Still, from he he was essentially invisible, and could see and hear one dim corner of the covered balcony quite clearly. This was, of course, the only corner he needed to see. He wondered at their choice of venue, but decided that the place must be an anniversary spot. Rolf looked out of place, massive and savage. He had already been there with a scotch when Adrian had ditched his borrowed tray behind a potted plant and climbed into position, lurking like a polar bear beside a hole in the ice. He knew when Mr. Gardner arrived, watching Rolf watch him walk up. Checking his watch, Adrian found him five minutes late, and smiled. Just enough time to make Rolf worry, nowhere near enough time for him to give up.

Mr. Garder walked into his field of vision, and Adrian had to fight back a low whistle of admiration. Sistah had apparently rediscovered her self-respect and put it to good use. He sat down, and gazed at his lover for a long moment, his expression inscrutable. He looked clear and remote, one manicured hand propping up his chin.

"...I'm sorry I didn't tell you." Rolf rumbled, barely audible even to Adrian's sharp ears, with the chill breeze in his favor.

"Are you really?" Mr. Gardner asked, very gently. Rolf nodded, his grip tightening on his glass. "Careful." Mr. Gardner had noticed the same thing, and reached out to still Rolf's massive paw. The contact didn't shock through them like infatuated high school kids, and they pulled away at a normal human pace, but Adrian supposed that it had done the over-thirty equivalent. "Why didn't you, though? I've never been bi-phobic."

"In reverse order: yes you have, and old habits die hard." He drained half his drink, and there was a brief intermission as their waitress descended on them. She was obsequious, and Adrian grimaced. As she left, he could see "Smarmy bitch" writ large on Mr. Gardner's countenance, only his good breeding preventing him from speaking aloud. Looking at Rolf again, he sighed, and bowed his head.

"Maybe I am when it comes to you."

"You shouldn't be."

"...Your count is a little alarming on a straight man, Rolf."

"Goddammit." He put his face in his hands and cursed softly in German. "Nelly, I was young, stupid, drunk, and unlucky."

"Maybe lucky." He said so softly that Adrian had to lip-read it. "They're great kids." They shut up again as a cosmopolitan arrived, and both looked into the red depths of the drink. "And you probably never would have found them again if you'd never met me, which brings me back to my first question."

"Nelly--"

"No." He held up a hand to stop him, eyes intent. "I would trust you with my life, Rolf. Why didn't you think you could trust me with this?"

"I got out of the habit of telling people things in East Berlin. I... I've never been good at talking." He looked down helplessly at his hands.

Mr. Gardner smiled ruefully. "True."

"And I didn't want to ruin the best thing in my life." He said it with his eyes closed, like it was all he could do to speak. "I was afraid you'd throw me out if I told you."

"Rolf." He took one huge hand in both of his own. "I'm not sorry I yelled at you, but I am sorry I threw you out."

"That's fair."

Mr. Gardner laughed a little tearily, and kissed his hand. "Let's get out of here."

"Oh, thank God." Hollis groaned, slumping onto his couch, now blissfully free of lovesick German moose. He sighed, and took in the cool silence. It was nice to be in the apartment without another person's heat and footsteps, however quiet. Aside from the simple facts of apartment size and his own fairly private nature, the problem with Rolf was that any red-blooded male forced into close quarters with him would eventually start wanting to fight him. It was some kind of heavy pheromone thing that crawled across the reptile brain and made Hollis want to beat his chest and drive the interloper out of his territory. Seeing the amount of toast crumbs Rolf had managed to get into the butter on his last morning in residence, he had nearly done it. He was glad that he hadn't, of course. He was glad they were back together and that all was right with the world. He just wished that his goddamned couch didn't stink of man. He sighed, rolled over, and buried his face in the arm before yanking it up with a snort, Rolf's scent strong and bitter. He growled as the phone rang, but picked it up.

"Yes?"

"Well, what bit you, sugar?" Sally's voice, warm and amused, should have made him feel better.

"Oh, nothing." He sighed, rolling onto his back and staring at the cracks in the ceiling. "No more trouble in paradise, I hope?"

She chuckled, and he could suddenly see her in living color, winding the phone cord around one finger. He felt a ridiculous lurch of longing, as if he hadn't seen her months instead of days. "No more trouble in paradise. What's wrong?"

Hollis suddenly itched, realizing just how much really was wrong. "...I've spent the last week with fucking Rolf in the house crying in the shower and wearing out my copy of A Fistful of Dollars, I'm lying on a couch that will probably smell like him until next year, and I've just now realized that I want to cut his balls off for sleeping with my woman. It doesn't help that it was almost twenty years ago and I know exactly how ridiculous I'm being." He was flushed by the end of his explanation, feeling completely stupid.

"I didn't know you knew how to get jealous!" Sally laughed, sounding delighted with her discovery. "I've got some kind of spray for the couch. As to the rest of it, why don't I come over and remind you who I'm sleeping with now?"

"Heh." He knew she would somehow be able to hear him blushing, worse than ever. "Shouldn't reward bad behavior, Sal."

"Baby, you don't know how to spell 'bad'." She said softly, her voice filled with sudden, ardent tenderness. "And that's why I love you." It was the first time she had ever said it, and she hung up in a spasm of panic before he could make any reply. Hollis lay where he was and grinned from ear to ear, ignoring the beeping of a disconnected line.

He greeted her by pouncing on her before she had even gotten her coat off, pressing her back against the door as it shut and kissing her fiercely for long enough that breathing started to be a problem. He finally pulled away with bright eyes and a wide grin. "Love you too, Sal." Her expression was an exact mirror of his, her heart pounding in her ears, and she shivered when he leaned in again, trailing a line of gentle bites down the side of her neck as he helped her out of her coat. 

She let it drop to the floor and pressed up against him both for its own sake and to start walking him backwards toward a variety of horizontal surfaces suitable to their age and gravity, whimpering and sinking her teeth into his shoulder as he slid one hand up her skirt. Sally was willing to concede fucking on the floor as a pleasure of youth, knowing the aches wouldn't be worth it, and would have tipped Hollis back onto the couch except that he actually snarled at the sight of it. She laughed, the sound muffled as he kissed her again, letting go to take her hand and lead her to the bedroom.

Hollis had never pinned her down before, and Sally was already trying to think of a way to get him to do it more often when he released her wrists to unbutton her blouse. She laughed at how mindful he was of the buttons even at a time like this when he was obviously trying not to go batshit crazy, and propped herself up a little to undo the catch of her bra, seeing quite clearly that Hollis was simply in no position to do it himself. His eyes looked feral and he seemed to need to touch every inch of her more than he needed his next breath, tossing both garments aside, his hands firm and possessive on her hips as he ground against her, growling.

The next few minutes were a dreamlike, heated blur as Hollis stripped her and rolled her to her knees, pushing her shoulders down to the mattress. She hadn’t even known he really liked it any better from the back, but hearing the way he groaned as he slid into her made her vow to pay better attention. As did the hand knotted into her hair, jerking her head back so he could bite her neck, holding on as he pounded into her. She was already close to coming, every thrust jarring out another wild cry, when he reached around and slowly rubbed her clit in gentle counterpoint. Just the fact that he was that careful was enough to bring her over the edge, and he moaned softly as she tightened around him, running his tongue up the side of her neck to her ear, growling, “Mine.” She might have said something in reply, but he kept her incoherent, tipping one climax into four before he finally followed her, holding her almost too tight and groaning deep in his chest, shaking. She could feel his heart beating like a snare drum as they caught their breath, and shuddered as he slid out.

‘Feeling better?” She asked, archly. 

Hollis burst into weary, profoundly relieved laughter. “Yes, ma’am. Thank you, ma’am.” He kissed the back of her neck and then rolled her onto her back, nestling between her thighs. “I wasn’t too rough on you, was I?”

“No, baby.” She ran a hand through his hair, and shuddered all over as he licked her soothingly, stroking his back with her feet. He eventually stopped and crawled up to check her wrists for bruising, kissing the faint shadows that were rising on her white skin.


	31. Chapter 31

Adrian knew very well that people could screw anything up, however sweet and sound it seemed, so he felt justified in following them home. He supposed again that their decorum was the result of age and a youth where the closet was the only option. They stood close, but didn't touch. The air between them seemed alive, and Adrian almost expected to hear the energy crackle.

Mr. Gardner's house turned out to be nice, as Adrian would have expected. It was almost too nice, and he wondered again how Rolf fit into this kind of environment, with yellow sweetheart roses in the yard and a glider on the porch. They got out of the car and headed sedately up the steps. Adrian was sort of surprised when the wooden wind chime didn't catch fire as they passed by it. There was some brief difficulty with the lock, Rolf moved to help, their hands brushed, and a second later he had his lover lifted off the ground and nailed to the door with a kiss that made Adrian blush down to his collarbones and drop his binoculars in his lap. As he scooped up a handful of reasonably clean snow and used it to cool his flaming face like some kind of desperate Regency beauty, he decided that they were going to be fine.

Naturally, all that was left after that was to bring the good news to his children, both of whom (that we know about a rather catty inner voice added) were in Dan's garage, engaged in the great youthful pastime of Trying to Get the Band Together. Well, Laurie was. Eddie was probably lounging somewhere like a panther, making unhelpful comments. Adrian smiled at the thought, and his suspicions were borne out upon arrival. Eddie was sprawled in a broken deck chair, gnawing on a Snickers bar and yelling 'Freebird!' while Walter told him to shut up and threw small objects at him.

"Hey, Eddie. Your gay dad isn't fighting with his bitch anymore."

"Hurray, Thanksgiving isn't ruined! Ow!" A small washer pinged off his skull.

Laurie whooped, and grinned at him. "Did you have anything to do with it?"

"They really didn't need any help once they actually decided to talk about it like grownups." He shrugged, and glanced at Eddie. "Should I remove the thorn in your side?"

"Please."

"Eddie, let me bribe you away from the studio with free lunch." Much like luring Bubastis into her cat carrier with treats every time he had to take her anywhere, food always worked with Eddie.

Dan spent his Thanksgiving weekend simultaneously learning Jean Valjean's lines and repairing his junk store guitar and amp. They had decided that he had to go electric about a week ago, and he was enjoying the work, eventually merging his two activities into a rock rendition of "Look Down". Reaching the end, he kept going, fiddling with the tune and improvising until it was an original, hummable composition. He suddenly grinned, realizing that "Familiars" now had a provisional tune. He noted it down before he forgot it and flopped back onto his bed. 

The whole house still smelled like turkey and cranberry sauce and pumpkin pie. Walter had only left that morning, and the sheets still smelled a little like him. Dan burrowed his face in them and sighed, remembering the way Walter's calloused hands had slid over his skin the night before, and his whispered, "Thankful for you" when teasingly pressed. Always so serious. He chuckled, and jumped at a knock on the door.

"Yeah?" He called, raising his head.

"Laurie's here." His mother called. He groaned inwardly, practically hearing Please don't knock her up, Danny.

Dan rolled to his feet and opened the door, letting a smiling Laurie, who sat on the edge of the bed and immediately exclaimed over the guitar. "Jesus, I didn't think you'd have it working so fast."

"Hey, I've got nothing better to do."

She grinned. "Well, not anymore, technically." She laughed when he blushed. "Sorry, I'm actually here on business." She pulled out Fantine's sheet music. "So, which of our big angsty death scenes should we do?"

"Well, I call it a victory for the arts." Byron offered this opinion as he came back out of the kitchen bearing the third round of drinks and another bowl of pretzels. The weird little apartment he shared with Bill was a cozy place on a cold night, with its jungle of plants, shadow puppets, and orphaned student projects.

Bill grinned, snagging a Coke off Byron's tray. "Of course you do, By." 

Hollis laughed from his position sprawled out on the couch. "All I know is I'm tired."

"I'll bet you are! You poor thing."

"It wouldn't have been so bad if that Wood woman hadn't shown up."

"You mean the dried up old twat that went after Gigi?"

"Byron!"

"Dammit, Bill, if a woman objects to a reproduction of the Venus de Milo in the classroom, I get to call her dried up!"

"Really, you're just lucky she doesn't know you're gay." Hollis added. Hardly anyone knew about Bill, since he was huge and muscular, loved sports, and had to be dressed by Byron due to his constitutional incapability to know which colors went together.

Byron snorted, settling himself in Bill's lap in the unnervingly natural way he always did it, one skinny arm looped around his neck. "Only because she's too damn narrow-minded to believe in a straight-acting gay man."

"Or even to read Nelly, which you'd think would be pretty easy." Bill added. "Still..."

Hollis laughed. "Really, if you think Byron's vulgar, you should hear what Sally calls her."

"Lord, I don't even want to know." He kissed Byron's cheek. "You're forgiven."

"I really do have to thank Sally for being a cattier queen than me. Or Nelly, and that's tougher."

"How's the show coming, anyway?"

"Well enough, even if most of my headliners are in the middle of forming a rock band and Javert is the shortest guy on the cast." He groaned. "Oh, and we still need a little girl who can sing."

"I'm sure you'll come up with something." Bill said in that trademark soothing tone of his that actually worked.

"Did you have to learn to do that?"

"Do what?"

"It's no good, Hollis. He doesn't know he has superpowers."

"We got it!" Usually Adrian did his best to cultivate an aura of dignity and poise, but faced with Hollis's victory against the forces of puritanism and "wouldn't that be kind of hard? You almost overstepped yourself with Phantom" he was wreathed in smiles and gave out hugs freely enough that Walter was deeply concerned. He hadn't joined in the early rehearsals, muttering that they probably wouldn't be allowed to do it, and would be stuck with Oklahoma!, a prospect he regarded with as much contempt as Adrian did.

"What?" He held him off at arm's length, annoyed at him for continuing to beam.

"We're doing _Les Mis_ after all." He grinned. "So you might want to catch up with Dan."

Walter snorted. "Going through audition process. Won't necessarily be cast."

"Come on, like anyone in this entire fucking school could match your intensity."

He just rolled his eyes, not put in any better temper by Adrian twirling under his arm and bounding away, apparently in search of someone else to inform and/or torment.

"Laurie, I'm gonna give it to you straight: You're definitely good enough to be Fantine, but we gotta give the other kids a chance. It's bad enough I'm recycling Dan and Walter into the lead, but I have to do that. They're the best possible casting choice in this entire school, but all kinds of girls want to be Fantine, and more importantly, they can pull it off."

"Mr. Mason, I love 'I Dreamed A Dream', but really I just want to be in this somewhere. I'd actually like a character part better."

And that was how she had wound up alone onstage with Eddie on a Saturday. Mr. Mason had acknowledged that it was a bit tasteless to cast them as a couple, since they had only just turned out to be related, but dammit, they had nearly perfect comedic chemistry and were going to be the Thenardiers and damn the consequences.

"Jeez, who taught you to sing, nuns?"

"Eddie, nobody lets a pretty girl do anything interesting in musical theatre." She sighed, slumping down to sit on the stage, looking at her chunky sneakers, which Walter had obligingly drawn angry gryphons on in Sharpie. "It's all pretty head-voice and vibrato."

He sighed. "Look, most of our numbers need to bounce." He studied her for a moment longer, then went to the piano, fiddling with it and plonking out a couple disjointed notes that sounded like the beginning of something, from which he seemed to be taking his pitch. "Okay, I'm gonna do this a cappella, but you should get the idea." She sat up straighter, clapping with exaggerated anticipation. "Aw, shut up." He cleared his throat and pulled in a breath that made her realize that despite usually landing roles like Carlotta, where sucking was the whole point, Eddie actually knew how to sing. He burst into "Cabaret" with vigor and flair, technical shortcomings made up for effortlessly by performance, his description of the demise of Elsie actually making Laurie laugh out loud. He dove through the rest of song, finishing up as inimitably as Liza herself. "So kinda like that. It's not about actually being able to sing, it's about being funny. Or about heart, if you asked Brady to explain it." She studied his earnest face with its piratical scar, and she burst out laughing again. "What? Dammit, Laurie!"

"How the hell can you call Adrian a faggot when you know all the words to "Cabaret"?"

He flushed. "Dammit, it's like, my mom's favorite movie. I got it through osmosis."

"Whatever!" She squealed, borne away on another wave of merriment. "You love Liza with a Z! I'm telling everyone!" He pounced on her in irritation and rehearsal was temporarily suspended in favor of a wrestling match, until they rolled panting away from each other, both laughing.

"You know, we've lined up our first gig for friday."

"Seriously? Last I checked, you didn't even have a name."

"Ugh. It's not going to matter. We're going to be at a waterpark or something equally lame."

"Well, shit. Break a leg."

The worst part was that it really was Walter's fault. Dan had been in good form, his fingers as nimble as ever. In fact, it was his ability that had allowed them to get offstage. Laurie had just followed whatever it was he was playing (she had suspected improvisation) and they had escaped with their lives if not their pride, amid yells of "Get off the stage!"

As they piled into Archie, he looked like he had been beaten, and Laurie climbed into the back with him, tears trembling unshed on her eyelashes. She didn't mind so much. Sure, it had been really bad, but she knew it wasn't going to kill her. Walter, she wasn't so sure about. She tried to wrap her arms around him as Dan started the car, knuckles white on the wheel, but he pulled away like the touch burned, slamming into the opposite door and staying there, a tight ball of unimaginable misery. The silence was deadly, gnawing into their souls as they fled the scene. The purr of Archie's engine left far too much room for thought, and Laurie snarled, lunging forward between the front seats to snap on the radio, insipid synth-pop noise flooding the car.

Oh honey I love you  
My love is so very true  
Skies are blue  
When I'm with you

Laurie gagged, pressing the power button, the silence suddenly much more bearable. "We're better than that shit, okay?"

Dan laughed weakly, but Walter just groaned, shaking his head. "FUCK!" He finally screamed, slamming his head into the window, making a horrible, concussive sound.

"Dammit, don't make me pull over, Walter!"

Laurie yanked him into her arms. "Stop that!"

"My fault! My fucking fault we bombed!"

"Yeah, it was." Dan said, eyes on the road. "We still love you. Relax."

Walter sobbed, but finally let Laurie hug him. He was shaking all over, and she rubbed his skin, feeling like she needed to warm him up, even though Archie was already a mobile steam-bath, as per usual. After a while, she was rocking him and softly singing "Let It Be", sounding better than any part of their aborted set. After a while, Dan joined in, their voices wrapping around Walter and making him quiet, if not content.

After dropping Laurie off at her house with kisses and reassurances, Dan was left with Walter, who was obviously in no shape to deal with his mother. Really, Dan didn't want to go home himself, knowing that his parents would ask how it went, and he would have to tell them. He went inside ahead of Walter, and just told them quite succinctly that his as yet unnamed, semi-nascent band had died horribly, and not to ask Walter about it. They didn't, and didn't expect them to actually sit through dinner when they both just wanted to die. Dan took Walter upstairs, turned off all the lights as if he was a wounded owl, and wrapped around him, holding him tight and saying absolutely nothing.


	32. Chapter 32

Hollis got the call on Saturday morning, yanked out of a dream of painting a mural that came to life as each detail was finished. He groaned, and gave Sally a squeeze just to make sure she was still there, all soft and warm with her tangled hair making a glowing red curtain over his face. He nuzzled the milky white skin of her back, and winced as another shrill ring pierced his head. He reluctantly rolled way from her soft, scented warmth, and picked it up. At least she slept like the dead, and hadn't stirred.

"H'lo?"

"I'm really sorry, Mr. Mason, but you've gotta help me."

"Dan? What's wrong?" He sat up, suddenly completely awake.

"We're okay, it's just... You know how we had our first gig yesterday?"

"Yeah."

"Walter totally choked. He's pretty much suicidally depressed and I don't know what to do, because he really did fuck up, and he's not dumb enough to lie to." He paused, the line humming between them. "I just said fuck, didn't I?"

"Eh. You're off the clock."

He laughed. "Oh god. Look, we need some kind of magic feather. He's not gonna be able to try again. This has gutted him."

Hollis sighed, looking over at Sally. "I think I might be able to fix you up, but could you hang on for a couple hours? I don't think the man you need to see is gonna be awake until noon."

Dan sighed, looking over at Walter, fast asleep and tangled in six quilts. "Yeah, we probably can."

"Dammit, Hollis, it's Saturday!" Byron squawked into the phone.

"I know. Look, I wouldn't ask if I didn't think they needed to talk to you."

"Ugh." Byron ran a hand through his greying hair and sighed. "I can be semi-decent in about an hour. Will that work?"

"Just fine, Byron."

After the kids had all eaten (or picked at, in Walter's case) breakfast at Sally's kitchen table, he loaded them into his car and headed for Byron's place, explaining as he went that Byron had some experience with these things. Walter had actually taken Art and wasn't all that surprised. Of course, his eyes still looked like frozen-over mud puddles, and he probably wouldn't register surprise until he was feeling better. The longest conversation Laurie had ever had with Byron had been at prom, a brief, mutually complimentary exchange about clothing by the punchbowl. Still, he had been wearing a pinstriped, gloriously funereal zoot suit, and that was a point in his favor. Dan had taken Shop instead of Art, due to a nearly pathological need to build things that really worked.

Laurie figured she knew all she needed to know when they wiped their slushy feet on a "Take away the right to say 'fuck' and you take away the right to say "Fuck the government.'" doormat and went into a room that was higher than it was wide and had Balinese shadow-puppets hanging from the ceiling. Byron was sitting cross-legged on a low, soft couch, surrounded by dusty cardboard boxes. His preferred weekend wear was apparently a hammer and sickle t-shirt and jeans, and it suited him.

"You fed them, right?"

"Of course I did." He looked around at the boxes, smiling ruefully. "I can't believe you still have this much of it."

"I keep everything, Hollis."

They spent their Saturday morning listening enthralled to Hollis and Byron's war stories and digging through the boxes, finding photo albums, old costumes, a pair of drumsticks, and all the other preserved ephemera of The Minutemen, ("Stop giggling, Dan. It was a more innocent time.") along with other music history anecdotes, such as the one about Jethro Tull originally being so bad that they had to change their name regularly so that venues wouldn't know they were getting the same crap again. Or how Dire Straits's first concert was given before an audience of one three-year-old boy with his finger up his nose. Even Walter had to admit it was sort of heartening.

"Did you really wear this, Mr. Lewis?" Laurie asked, standing and holding a long red dress up to herself.

"I most certainly did. Actually here's the review. Note that 'obscene' is misspelled."

"I like this one." Dan said, beaming. "You kissed a black guy onstage in Alabama in 1966? Are you insane?"

He groaned, going pink. "I thought I'd taken that out."

Hollis laughed. "They just made him so damn angry he had to return the favor. The guy was actually one of our roadies, so we could take him with us out of Klan country." He paused. "Still got my ass kicked on our way through Georgia, though." 

Walter had been quiet, but in a gradually less catatonic and more contemplative way. He was sitting on one end of the couch, reading the back of an ancient record. He looked up. "Where did you get the nerve?"

"I just angry and clothed in the invulnerable vestments of a goddess." He shrugged. "It's all persona, Walter. I never stuttered onstage." The stutter was one thing that made assholes make fun of Byron, simply because it was such a tell that you had really gotten to him. It never reached horrible, tongue-tying levels, but it was definitely there.

"Wow." Dan muttered, and looked up at Hollis. "What did you think, Mr. Mason?"

He cringed slightly, wincing. "Truthfully, I was pro-segregation." He waved a hand before anyone could say anything. "I know, I know, but I thought that if people kept away from each other they couldn't fight."

"But we all loved him anyway."

It was easier for Dan and Laurie. They actually had faith in the band, Walter and themselves, where Walter only had faith in them. Laurie had dance practice at noon, and his heart sank as the hour approached. He had arrived with them, and he would have to leave with them, and that would mean that he had to go home, because he couldn't bear to impose on either of them after failing them so completely. He knew they wouldn't think of it that way, but he did and could not do otherwise. His stomach rolled slowly at the thought of being trapped inside with his mother, but there was really nowhere else he deserved to go.

Byron took it upon himself to politely disagree with Walter's self-loathing, and because the kitchen was warm and he didn't quite have the heart to be rude to the only person besides Dan who had been able to deal with him in freshman year, he stayed behind when they left. Sucking down a cup of almost unbearably hot cocoa in the companionable stillness, it was suddenly easier to talk about it. How much his words meant to him, and yet how unable he felt to express how nightmarishly beautiful the world really was. How completely feeble and worthless he felt, with nothing but himself and the naked truth, expressed in a way as ugly and ridiculous as his own face. How ridiculous it was to have stage fright when he had sung the lead in a musical, and how disgusted he was with himself for all of it, for letting Dan and Laurie down, for exposing them to ridicule and then making them comfort him. It all coughed up like bile, and he hung his head, trembling over his steaming mug.

Byron tipped a little more bourbon into his own cocoa. "Are you done, kiddo?" Walter nodded. "I've been where you are now, and a lot lower."

"What got you out of it?"

"...I think telling you the truth might actually be a felony."

"I'm not a snitch, Mr. Lewis."

That actually made him laugh. "I think I'm supposed to say hard work and prayer, or at least therapy, but really I ate some psilocybin mushrooms and a lot of it came together."

"Don't like drugs." He sighed. "Am aware that Jim Morrison probably wouldn't have gotten anywhere without them."

Byron laughed. "Well, we'll never know." He sighed, studying Walter. "Look, I don't know if this will sink in, but I think all of you are almost alarmingly talented, and that Dan and Laurie love you enough that anything you do to hurt yourself hurts them. He glanced up at the clock. "I have to pick up a friend pretty soon, so we'd better get out of here." After they found their shoes and shrugged into their jackets, Byron paused, and studied Walter. "In my considered opinion, what you really need is a mask."

A week went by. Rehearsals started to be more like rehearsals, and if Walter was still distant, Dan and Laurie at least had company while they worried. They both talked to Hollis about it, separately and together, and the only thing he could think to say was to give him time, that guys like Walter tended to crawl away and lick their wounds alone. The only thing to be done for a critter like that was to leave food out and hope it came around.

Curled up together on Laurie's bed, they missed him, all sharp angles and bones and fire, and hoped he'd crawl out of wherever he was and come back to them. Music was out of the question, her keyboard and his guitar sitting untouched and mute, waiting for Walter's purring voice to call the notes out of them. Sharing the usual mix of frozen food and E-Z cooking with her mother, Laurie tried not to sigh, almost able to see him sitting beside her, shoveling it down like it was actually good. Dan looked to the window every single time he set foot in his room, and could never quite stop the disappointment when Walter wasn't there.

Even Sylvia noticed her son's conspicuous absence, and found herself hammering on his door with a load of dirty laundry on her hip. "Goddammit, are you sick? You know I can't afford to take you anywhere!"

"Not sick." He sounded flat and apathetic.

"You've been dragging ass for a week, Walter. What the hell is the problem?"

"...Didn't know you noticed."

"I may be fucking 'unfit', but I am your mother." She tried the door and found it unlocked, stepping into Walter's trash heap of a room. She was no goddamn June Cleaver, but she worried about the kid sometimes, the way shit just piled up. At least he bathed. Real crazies didn't, so she hadn't completely ruined him, goddammit. He was sprawled on his bed, face planted miserably in his pillow. She sighed, looking around. Posters of Velvet Underground and Dirty Harry on his walls, no pinups because all her whoring had made him a goddamn male nun, and a map of the subway system because he was at least smart enough to be a nerd. 

She sat on the edge of the bed, letting the basket thump to the floor, one broken handle sticking up as if to remind her exactly what a cheap piece of shit it was. Pulled a battered pack of Camels out of her bra and flipped it open, going through the whole little sacrament of tapping, lighting, and putting away. "What's wrong?"

"You'll just think it's funny."

It hurt because there was a reason he thought it was true. She prided herself on never getting into crack or crank no matter how much of the shit got smoked in her house, but booze could be just as bad, and she had to fight the mean-drunk urge to lash out at him for what was her fault. "I'm sober, kid."

He laughed into the pillow. "Been trying to start a band."

"On top of all that faggy theatre shit you do already?"

"Yeah, mom. On top of all that faggy theatre shit." He sat up, scrubbing his hands over his face. "Had our first gig about a week ago. Bombed."

"Well, shit, honey. That's what happens."

"No it isn't!" His eyes blazed. "We're good. We're good and it should have shown then, but I choked. Me!" He hissed, and she was horrified to see how close he wass to crying. Jesus, she hadn't seen the kid bawl since he was about seven.

"Walter..." She couldn't think of anything to say after it, and they both just sat there as the blue smoke from her cigarette spiraled up toward the ceiling. She finally put a hand on his shoulder. "The one thing I know for sure you don't do is give up. Don't fucking start now."


	33. Chapter 33

Adrian pretended not to be surprised when Walter peeled off to follow him after rehearsal the next day, but he didn't dare look at Dan or Laurie. Walter didn't say anything and he decided to let him be taciturn in peace, and speak when spoken to. "Need a favor." He finally growled as they reached the car.

"What kind?"

"Procurement."

"Well, now I'm intrigued. Get in."

It was really sort of flattering if intensely surreal to know that Walter Kovacs trusted Adrian with his brain. Apparently at a point of spiritual crisis that couldn't be resolved by attending church services with Blair Roche's family (which he only thought nobody knew about), he decided (despite not even liking weed) to see what psilocybin could do for him. Naturally, Walter knew where to buy crack, but decent psychedelics remained elusive.

"Willing to reimburse you."

"What, reimburse Bruce Wayne? A dose for you would be about twenty bucks, don't even worry about it." He parked and led the way out and up to the apartment. "What you really need to think about is whether or not you're actually ready to go. I have some in my freezer as we speak."

Walter snorted. "Knew I'd come to the right person."

Adrian laughed, unlocking the door and ushering him in. "Now, now. I just believe that spiritual growth takes precedence over vice laws."

In the end, they set off with the precipitance that Walter tended to bring to any enterprise. It wasn't that he didn't think things through. Honestly, what had made Adrian notice him in the first place had been the cautious way he moved, the way the gears in his head turned almost audibly before he gave the right answer in his grating monotone. 

Walter's deliberation was all subterranean, so when he said he had nothing to do this afternoon and he might as well, Adrian took him at his word and hid a few breakable things in case they got frenetic, dragged out some books of interesting art, and then made mind-melting little canapes out of a few caps and some peanut butter.

Walter watched, his elbows propped on the counter. "Coming with me?"

"I don't see why not. After all, I've done it before and you haven't."

"True."

"Besides which, I trust you not to need me to call 911. I won't overdose you, and you will be able to remember the thing I am about to tell you." He threw the knife into the sink and put the peanut butter away, picking up one cap.

"And that is?"

He gently set it between Walter's teeth. "Whatever happens, don't panic."

Walter had eaten worse, at many points in his life. These only tasted kind of like nuts and dirt, and peanut butter was a good mask after all. He sat on the counter, stolidly grinding down his third and final cap, jaws beginning to ache. Adrian had squeezed a glass of fresh orange juice for them both, outlining his theory that vitamin c helped you metabolize the mushrooms and really get going, and how even if that wasn't actually true, it was great for getting the taste out of your mouth. Walter took a swig and washed the last bits down with a sense of fatalistic finality. That was it. According to Adrian, nausea was actually fairly unusual, and Walter's stomach was cast iron. He looked over at Adrian, was leaned against the same counter beside him, determinedly gnawing on his fourth cap, looking around the kitchen. Apparently messes always bothered him when he was tripping.

"Well." Adrian murmured. "This is the worst part. You'll have to forgive me if I pace while I wait for it to come on. Come to think of it, I do that before I have to fly somewhere, too." He sighed, running a hand through his hair. 

"How long?"

"When did you eat last?"

"...Haven't had much of an appetite lately."

"If you haven't had anything today, you should be feeling kind of cold and fizzy and weird in about twenty minutes. Don't worry about that part, it goes away in another twenty minutes or so. The visuals come on over the same period."

"Apparently some people don't even have any."

Adrian waved a hand in a vague mezzo-mezzo gesture. "You'll probably see something, but I'd be surprised if things got really wild. It's more like you get... shroom-o-vision or something. It's a filter. Or the removal of one, I'm never sure."

"Hurm."

"Do you have any idea how you cute you are when you grumble incoherently?" Walter looked at him as though he had grown a second head, and Adrian laughed, cleaning his mostly already clean kitchen to occupy himself for the come-up, restless as always. He was humming to himself as he dried the juicer and put it away when Bubastis joined him, twining around his ankles and purring. He cooed at her and scooped her up, kissing the top of her head and nuzzling into her plush fur, all grown back for winter and making her look half-again her not inconsiderable size, and had the pleasure of seeing Walter smile when he looked up.

They spent about half an hour on the couch, playing with the cat and pretending they weren't waiting for anything, because, as Adrian said sententiously around a mouthful of smoke, the universe was a tricky bastard, and sometimes you had to sneak up on it. He said weed smoothed it out, but they both agreed that if Walter was actually feeling all right, he had better not chance it. And he was, actually. A little chilled, but nothing to really complain about, especially as the initially worrying fizz in his chest and throat had subsided, along with a brief quavering of nausea. He blinked, wondering if it was normal for the clouds to have a very faint, rather lovely moiré pattern, and only then remembering that of course it wasn't.

"Adrian."

"Yes, dear?"

"The cat. The cat is purple." And she was, the barely there lavender blush in her grey coat deepening as he looked at her. It wasn't particularly alarming, and she didn't seem to mind.

"...She rather is, isn't she?"

Naturally, this was occasion for both of them to laugh until they cried, as the room seemed to expand and brighten. The light from the windows was a gorgeous, golden, summery haze, despite the fact that it was sleeting outside. A few minutes later they had slid to the floor, mumbling to each other about how unspeakably beautiful the cat was, and whether she was Bast or the Cheshire Cat, and coming quite naturally to the conclusion that was she was both, has always been, and would in fact still be when they were sober, even if it was less obvious.

After that, things

get

a little

S T R A N G E

The whole place becomes some kind of ludicrous nursery, everything beautiful and glowing. Bubastis lurking among the houseplants becomes something Walter cannot help but think of as a designer lynx, huge and feral and beautiful. He follows her for a while, even though he's pretty sure he's not moving. There's a primordial forest where he meets someone who might be Athena or the Virgin Mary, he can't actually tell because she keeps changing. She doesn't say anything to him because she doesn't have to, and when he snaps back a little, he's crying. 

He was nowhere near sober, but he was definitely back in the room again. He mopped at his eyes, panting lightly, and staring in shock at how angelic Adrian looked when he came over to him with some tissues. 

"You okay?"

He nodded, and stopped staring long enough to wipe his eyes and blow his nose, both experiences completely and utterly bizarre in their own discrete ways. "Yeah."

"Where did you go?"

"Uh. Goddess trip. Followed the cat into the forest and god, you look like stained glass." He lightly touched Adrian's face, distracted by his golden radiance.

"You look like some angry little fey being."

"I don't care how beautiful you are, I'll fight you if you call me an elf." He feebly shook his fist and laughed, filled with a kind of bubbly euphoria that made it impossible to be really angry at anyone, and hugged Adrian so he wouldn't start crying again. Adrian's shirt was extremely distracting. It was grey, but somehow prismatic at the same time, and seemed almost to breath with its own rhythm, independent of Adrian's actual respiration. "Your shirt. Is distracting." He said.

"You. Are high."

"Pot. Kettle."

"Spackle."

"Paste."

"Pablum."

"Oppressive."

"Margaret Thatcher." They took another break for some maniacal laughter, and then stumbled over to the books to look at art, every movement in the ten-foot journey pregnant with untold meaning. "Walter." Adrian finally said, standing on his own two only slightly wobbly legs. "I don't think I have actually peaked yet. Can we handle music?"

"I can if you can, tough guy." Walter growled in a pretty passable Humphrey Bogart, tipping an imaginary fedora over his eyes and making them both laugh again.

Adrian stares helplessly at every album he owns. "Oh god. I might not be capable of a decision! Quick, name a band!"

"Velvet Underground! Oh, thank god!" He put it on and stumbled back to Walter, flopping down beside him and petting the cat when she came up to lounge beside them. All three sprawled and listened to "Run Run Run", Walter almost writhing in complete and utter delight.

"You know, it's weird that you're not really into drugs but you're on shrooms listening to a song about heroin."

Walter laughed. "It's not really about the drugs. It's about horror and beauty." He waved his hands lazily in the air, sinuously swaying to the harsh track. "When she turned blue, all the angels screamed" he sang with Lou Reed, nearly purring. "A girl dying of a heroin overdose is a pretty horrible thing, and I bet the angels do scream every time it happens, with the ethereal larynxes of seraphim, and that it's the most sublime and horrible sound you've never heard."

Adrian sighed, then stared wide-eyed at the ceiling. "Oh dear."

"What's wrong?"

"I'm terribly afraid I might be Alexander the Great." Adrian murmurs, and wanders away onto golden sands for a while. There's some vast and powerful message, and he hears the voices of the pharoahs and sees a monstrous, vaguely squid-like being when he closes his eyes, fascinated by its hideous majesty and abyssal beauty. Opening his eyes, he lets Bubastis lead him on a vision quest through the apartment that seems to retell the entire history of the universe and which finishes up on the balcony in the sleet.

Shivering, Adrian looked over at Walter, standing beside him, hair darkened by the stinging downpour. "Back to plateau?"

"Y-yeah. Shit, it's cold." He looked around and saw Bubastis watching them through the glass door, and laughed. "Hah, look at her, wondering why the hell the apes are crazy enough to eat the weird stuff."

"God, she really is." Walter grinned, and lead the way back in. "I feel almost normal. What about you?"

"Well, things are still remarkably pretty, but I'm done communing with Tutankhamun." He shut the doors behind him, slicking his hair out of his face. "...You should probably eat. Can you?"

"Maybe." A knock at the door made them both freeze. After a brief, whispered conference, they agreed to hold hands and go see who it was together, delighted to find that it was Eddie waiting outside the door, and not anyone they'd have to maintain in front of.

"Eddie!" Adrian threw his arms around him. "Neither of our consciousness units is vibrating at the same frequency as the physical universe yet. Can you make us food?"

"I think I've come further down than him." Walter added.

"Obviously." Eddie ushered them back inside. "To think that I went home and had dinner with my mom while you two were eating illegal drugs like the bad kids in an after-school special."

"Shocking, isn't it?" 

"Damn straight, faggot. Both of you go dry off and change so you don't die of fucking pneumonia, okay?"

Adrian laughed, and kissed him softly, taking Walter's hand and towing him up to his room. They took quick, hot, successive showers, neither of them together enough to make the pilgrimage to the guest room to use that one. Pink and warm and wrapped in fluffy white towels, they sprawled on the bed to dry, Adrian reminded of his childhood, Walter thinking that he ought to call Dan and Laurie.

They quietly confided in each other the way people tend to on the tail end of nearly any altered state until Eddie yelled for them to get their faggot asses down and eat. Adrian found two robes, and they joined hands again, feeling like children as they came down to see Eddie looking up at them and laughing. He had made grilled cheese sandwiches and canned tomato soup on the grounds that it was good for cold weather, their inner children would like it, and that it was something he could actually fucking make.

Despite eating seeming sort of depressing and industrial, they were damned hungry and everything was nice and hot and comforting. Eddie stayed by the stove to make more sandwiches on demand, chuckling to think that he'd be the mommy, out of all fucking people. Plates in the sink, they sat on the couch and looked at the art books again, pleased to actually be able to pay attention to them this time, and kind of enjoying how normal Eddie's lewd commentary on the nudes was. They sat on either side of him, and gay as it was, he put an arm around each of them and let them snuggle in against him, needing comfort as sobriety crept back in.


	34. Chapter 34

Dan wasn't actually sure what to think as he headed to Adrian's apartment. Walter had sounded okay, if slightly strange, but given his general Puritanism and fragile emotional state, Dan cursed traffic the whole way and ran up the stairs, lurking in the hallway for a bit to let his breathing even out before knocking. He tried not to hammer when it wasn't opened immediately, and barely succeeded.

"Relax, I can hear ya, shit..." Eddie grumbled to himself as he came over and let Dan in. "The runt's fine, calm down."

"I wasn't worried." He lied, toeing off his shoes and following Eddie to the couch. Walter and Adrian were leaning against each other to stay upright like tired little kids, and Dan had to smile. "Ready to go?"

Walter nodded, hugging Adrian and then Eddie, who snorted but couldn't actually hide being pleased. Walter smiled at him as if to let him know that he knew exactly how he felt, and then took Dan's hand, collecting his backpack and coat on the way out. By the time they had reached the car, Walter had snuggled in against Dan's side, holding Dan's arm around himself. It was hard to let go, but they managed to arrange themselves in Archie's bucket seats. Walter definitely didn't feel like going home, and apparently neither did Dan, driving them up to the overlook where they had gone with Laurie that very first time in silence.

As soon as they were stopped, Walter unbuckled and crawled into Dan's lap, curling up and purring as Dan's arms wrapped around him. "Sorry, Dan."

"It's okay, man. We just worry about you. And miss you."

"Not okay, see?" He sighed contentedly, cuddling in against Dan's chest. "Won't do it again."

Dan laughed. "Well, good."

"Mm."

"How was your trip?"

"Instructive. Laughed more than I cried. Didn't throw up."

"Good." Dan kissed the top of his head.

"Forgave my mother. Don't know if that part will take."

"We'll just have to see, won't we?"

They lapsed into comfortable silence as Archie slowly cooled, the windows beginning to fog up. "It's too late for a slow song" Walter murmured, "when the rent is paid with a come-on. And it's too late for the slow dance. Her salvation was the boogeyman. Don't be too kind. Leave the light on, and in the morning he'll be long gone. And you just won't, but sometimes you can. You're not too old for the back of my hand."

"...What is that?"

"Something I started working on day before yesterday."

"Y'know what's funny?"

"What?"

Dan reached around him to start the car again, letting it run to defog the windows. "The one fragment of a tune we could come up with without might just fit it."

Laurie woke up to the sound of pebbles on her window, eagerly leaping up from her nest of pillows. Archie was parked at the curb, Walter sitting on the hood like he was staking the place out, swimming in Dan's enormous jacket and watching her window. She beamed and opened it, leaning out to see Dan below, laughing silently up at her. She was dressed and halfway down the rain gutter in five minutes. Dan waited at the bottom, his hands on her waist as he helped her down and her fingers in his hair as she kissed him, then broke away and ran to do the same to Walter, taking advantage of his size to pull him off the hood and into her arms where he purred and relaxed, murmuring an apology into her ear.

"Damn right you're sorry, you little bastard." She murmured back.

"Isn't it cute how they think they're being sneaky?" Sally murmured lazily, her head pillowed on Hollis's chest.

"Yeah." They listened to Archie pull away into the night, and tumbled into their own separate, drowsy trains of thought. "Y'know," Hollis said a while later, tracing an abstract design on her shoulder blade with one finger, "that weird little dollar theatre down the block from my place is gonna be screening some of the old Minutemen serials."

"Could we sneak in for old time's sake?"

He chuckled, lightly tugging her hair. "Hey, I always paid."

Walter bit Dan's thigh to muffle a wail, hands struggling against his grip. Laurie had told him to hold Walter down, and he couldn't seem to persuade him to do otherwise. Not that she was helping his concentration at all, biting the back of his neck too hard and using her hips to drive three fingers into him. They slid smoothly, wet with her own lubricant and making him whimper, his head pillowed in Dan's lap as he spread for her shamelessly, raising his hips and rocking back. She growled in his ear that she would only touch his cock if he sucked Dan off. "Don't let go of his hands." She added, making Dan moan and blush as his grip tightened on Walter's wrists, pinning them to the towel. They could laugh at Dan for being a boy scout all they liked, but it was nice to know that he could pretty much always unfurl a beach towel so they could do something like this at a moment's notice. Walter whined and sucked Dan most of the way down and in fact, further than he had ever managed, moaning around him.

"Jesus, Walter." Dan breathed, taking in the desire on his face. They all knew that Walter loved to give head, but this was remarkable even for him. He fucked his mouth on Dan, his lips wet and stretched as he concentrated entirely on what he was doing, arms still reflexively struggling against Dan's grip as he clutched at the towel. He let out a muffled cry, eyes flying wide as Laurie started to move again then fluttering shut as his body relaxed in a kind of profound contentment. He whimpered when she wrapped her free hand around him, and blushed down to his shoulders as she told Dan how wet he was, how close to coming already. He pulled off to suck in a few frantic breaths, and then dove down again, choking slightly as he forced himself down onto the last half inch or so and nuzzling Dan's belly for a moment before pulling back a little, sore but still hungry. Dan growled, and told him exactly what he looked like, making him buck up under Laurie, mewling. Whenever either of them talked dirty to him it was always hard to figure out if he was more turned on or freaked out, but this time he groaned and came all over Laurie's hand with an apparent lack of conflict. Dan moaned, sliding out of Walter's slack mouth and releasing his bruising grip on his wrists to stroke his hair, cradling his head as he shuddered to a stop.

"Why don't trade places?" Laurie said conversationally, a feral gleam in her eyes. Dan shuddered, his cock twitching at the thought. She grinned, and came over to slick him with Walter's come, with almost ended things right there. After he had stopped whimpering and had gotten enough of a grip on himself to go on, he got settled behind Walter and Laurie shifted until his head was in her lap, where he whimpered and got to work without being told, putting her legs over his shoulders and cradling her hips. Dan groaned, locking eyes with her as he pressed into Walter who took him easily, completely relaxed and making muffled sobbing sounds against Laurie. She cooed softly to him about how well he was doing as Dan slowly started to move, making him moan. Dan ran a hand up the long line of his back to trace the marks Laurie had left on his neck, and Walter trembled helplessly, arching his back and rising onto his knees, his nails digging into Laurie and making her shudder.

Dan could only take a few minutes of Walter's complete submission before dragging his hips back hard and holding him there as he came deep inside him with a low, rumbling growl he could hardly believe he was making. Walter whined, and cried out softly when Laurie yanked his hair, looking up at her with pleading eyes. "Why don't you help him out?" She murmured, and then cried out softly, losing her train of thought. Dan smiled, panting for breath as he reached around to infuriatingly pinch Walter's nipples, making him squirm without helping a bit.

"Please," he whimpered, "Please Dan, I..." Laurie pulled his hair again and he groaned, barely hearing a odd metallic clank, but blinking at Laurie's breathless and incredulous laughter.

"Seriously?"

"Why not?" Something cool and hard pushed gently into him, smaller than Daniel but big enough to make him jump and almost squeal. It seemed to have parallel ridges of some kind and not to be all that long, but then Dan was gently rotating and pressing and he was suddenly crying out with every breath until Laurie shoved him down again, which served to muffle but not to stop him as his legs shook almost too much to support his weight. Laurie clawed his back as she came, and he was dragged along with her with no one touching his cock, wailing.

"Fuck." Dan finally said in the silence that followed. He gently pulled out of Walter, who eventually managed to turn and see that Dan had been using the handle of a screwdriver on him, a realization that made him go bright red again.

"Pervert."

Dan laughed, and Laurie ruffled Walter's hair. "Yeah? And you _loved_ it, pervert." Her expression softened and turned more serious as she looked at him. "So deal with it and stick with us and make some damn music, okay?"

"Okay."


	35. Interlude II

I never actually thought I'd see the day when I'd have the entire oeuvre of the Masks in front of me. I had sort of assumed the only recordings were those ancient bootlegged tapes that pass from hand to hand like religious relics in certain circles, and seldom have I been so pleased to be wrong. It's a sleek, four-disc set, titled 'Masquerade', appropriately enough. Now, this is where you show your credentials: either you know the Masks or you don't, and if you don't, I pity you. Like Velvet Underground they were more influential than successful, so it seems sort of appropriate that the Masks occasionally seem to be channeling the Underground. A powerful, anarchic garage band, their distinctive sparse instrumentation and inspired vocals hold up remarkably well, and even as I type this, I'm listening to Disc One, track three: Sneer. That clacking, brutal line through the drums is created by Walter Kovacs's high heels on the floor, and I can tell you with certainty that 'slap my back' is a mondegreen, and that it's really 'snap my back'. The sound quality is so goddamn incredible we should all go and sacrifice a goat to Adrian Veidt for bringing us the remastering process they used on this stuff. After years of those fuzzy goddamn bootlegs, it's shocking to hear how clean their sound really was. I had almost forgotten and now I can finally hear that shimmering, ethereal little break Dan Dreiberg did on Gargoyles in Love somewhere besides inside my head. To quote Kovacs himself: I am a grateful man.

Before an army of riot grrls emasculates me an ice cream scoop, yes, I love Laurie too. The Masks always were an ensemble, one of those rare bands where everyone could do everything (okay, Kovacs never got past rhythm guitar, but that's only because God would have struck him down if he was as good at it as he was at vocals and drumming) and Laurie was a good example. April Witch still gives me goosebumps, Perish The Thought might be the sexiest duet ever recorded, and her drumming makes me remember Joan Jett's adage about girls just having their balls a little higher. Laurie was a riot grrl before we really knew what one was. All we knew was that she rocked and we would have cut off our collective left nut to kiss the toe of her combat boot.

And yes, we did know the score. To all the snot-nosed punks just now listening to "Three-Dimensional" and putting the pieces together: everyone already knew. I swear to god, I can't get online without seeing some shit about 'omigod, did you know they were like, a real three-way?!' Jesus Christ, they made out onstage, we all knew. They had a couple kind of disturbing groupies, but as far as anyone knows, they didn't get anywhere. Listening to this collection, I think I can even hear why: these kids really did love each other. It was a big part of what made them so seraphically, painfully fucking good. When they did Song For Sylvia it made your heart bleed, because you could see that they were the only thing holding him together. All mushy crap aside, this album is killer and you should all go get it right now. Go ahead and steal it if you have to, but go home and put that shit on. And then just listen all the way through, and then do it again. And then go get a goat and join me outside Adrian Veidt's office.


	36. Chapter 36

Hollis was pleased to come down to breakfast to find Dan, Laurie, and Walter spilling things as they garnished their massive bowls of oatmeal to ludicrously specific personal tastes, quietly and productively arguing over some lyrics that were apparently Dan's. He kept his silence and ghosted past them to make coffee, amazed at how natural it felt. Laurel hadn't actually suffered from his relationship with Sally, simply because it had turned out that everyone in the district had assumed they'd been sleeping together for years, something he had somehow missed. He hadn't brought it up with Sally, figuring she'd just give him that little Mona Lisa smile that meant: you're so cute when you're dumb, Johnny Law. He chuckled inwardly, knowing he probably had about an hour before Sally came staggering down, and stood leaning against the counter, sipping scalding black coffee as he watched the artists at work.  
  
"Like the line about the crescent moon, but we have to move it."  
  
"Why not leave it up here, man?"  
  
"You're both morons, it makes sense to put it in goddamn chorus."  
  
A moment of silence, the two dark heads and the one bright one bent over a sheaf of torn-out notebook paper with the scraggly edges still on, and then Walter's husky humming as he tapped a weird, jazzy little rhythm on the rim of his bowl. "I think so."  
  
"Great."  
  
"Still don't like the ending."  
  
"That's because it's written for Dan to sing, and you can't do soft and clear at the same time."  
  
"Why not have Dan sing backup?"  
  
They all jumped, apparently not even Walter having heard him come in. "We thought backup singers were kind of bubblegum." Laurie shrugged, tossing her hair to get it out of her eyes.  
  
"Not necessarily, pumpkin." The pet name had somehow naturally emerged, and Hollis had yet to break the sacred edict against uttering it withing 500 yards of school grounds. Dan pushed an empty chair out for him with one foot, and Hollis sat down, nearly putting the sleeve of his robe into a splash of milk, but avoiding it in time. "The three of you are in an interesting position for a rock group. As far as vocals go, you're more like a classic Motown act. Alternate, layer, write duets. Use all the instruments at your disposal." He took a sip of his coffee and grinned. "Jeez, you guys have a background in stage musicals, I shouldn't have to tell you this."  
  
Laurie laughed. "Yeah, you shouldn't."  
  
When Valjean, Javert, and the Thenardiers ended rehearsal the next week with an obviously prepared, perfectly pitched and synchronized rendition of "My Girl", he figured he should have kept his mouth shut about Motown. They got most of the way through the song before collapsing into the giggles, and he had the feeling that the band might lurch to life again. He quietly resolved to be there, no matter how much the venue made him look like a sex offender. He had a feeling Ursula was in on something as well. She was making masks. Sure, the makeup for a show that was mostly old age, basic whore, and wounds and grime wasn't exactly a challenge for a girl like her, but it seemed odd that her extracurriculars would be so elaborate. Most of her stuff was in the girls' dressing room, where he pretty much never set foot because he liked his job, but she had been leaving them to dry overnight, when it was safe to trace the signs of non-requisite paper-mâché work to its source. One looks like some kind of cat thing, another a bit like an owl, and he has the feeling she's not even sure about the third. They were all half-masks, like the one for the Phantom, and he was careful not to touch them, not wanting to ruin such meticulous work.

 

The place stank of clove cigarettes and adolescent angst. The sea of kids around him was mostly unrelieved black, except for their white hands and faces, the glowing ends of their cloves, and the occasional burst of color, usually on a girl or a particularly fey boy. They seemed like a fairly relaxed crowd, which is to say that the tension was all fairly friendly. This looked like the kind of place where a fistfight wouldn't spread wrath so much as confusion, and he relaxed a little. A black coat kept him from standing out, jeans and a t-shirt beneath assuring anyone who looked him over that grandpa knew his place as an observer. He leaned against the red and black paneled back wall to watch the empty stage and wonder at Byron's far-flung acquaintance.  
  
Backstage, Walter carefully attached his garters, looking up and catching Dan's expression of faint misgiving before he could hide it. "Go big or go home, Daniel."  
  
"Walter, if they start giving you shit..."  
  
"I'll let it bounce off." He stood, five-nine in heels, and Laurie smiled, coming over to fasten her choker around his neck.  
  
"Half the crowd out there is in some kind of drag, Dan."  
  
"Eh. Pretty ridiculous from a man in wings, anyway."  
  
"I think it was very sweet of Adrian to loan them to you." She smiled, looking them over in the single, cracked mirror. Dan was mostly white, with his wings and feathered mask, Laurie was mostly black, her mask feline, and Walter was black and white in his bizarre experimental dress and harlequin mask. Altogether they looked like something one might see after dropping acid and trying to play dominoes, but that wasn't necessarily a bad thing.  
  
"Sweet like salt." Dan muttered, adjusting his mask.  
  
"Like me?" Walter murmured, giving his lipstick a final go-over.  
  
"Maybe a little."  
  
Laurie laughed, and glanced at the clock. There were only a couple minutes left until D-Day, and Walter scanned the set list, ensuring that no matter how badly he freaked, he wouldn't forget. Dan put a hand on his shoulder, and Laurie suddenly knew that if this went wrong the three of them would probably form the world's smallest riot.

 

They knew it was going to work halfway through Burn Me, chosen as an opening number because it was the essence of go big or go home. It opened with a Janis Joplin scream that nearly stripped the paint off the walls, Walter snatching the mic off the stand because there was no way he would be able to stay still enough to use it where it was. Dan's guitar screamed in answer like the mating call of some terrible and prehistoric animal, and Laurie's keyboard came in with the lyrics.   
  
As far as Hollis could tell, the frontal assault paid off. It helped that Burn Me was pretty much entirely about sex, even if there were allusions to Ovid in it. And damned if the dress hadn't turned out just like Walter had wanted it. Hollis hadn't actually meant to know about it beforehand, but he had caught Walter and Jon working on it in the costume shop, latex and water-based paint and pigment and ink. It lacked the perfect symmetry of a Rorschach inkblot, but they shifted with his movements, always black and white, never grey.  
  
Dan's guitar seemed to be tuned just slightly off-key with reality, and Laurie's use of her synthetic percussion made him vow to find her a set somewhere. She added an extra drum line with the heels of her boots on the stage, and Dan's wings threw wide shadows and a few little feathers that glowed like snow in the spotlight. Walter's husky voice bound them together, and Hollis hadn't heard backup singers used this effectively since Bob Marley had had the Wailers. He had known they would be a good band, and grinned as the Masks whipped their audience into the kind of Dionysian frenzy that led to ecstatic dancing instead of brawling,  
  
After Burn Me they ran through Sneer and Familars and most of the rest of their harder repetoire, debuting April Witch to break it up a little. The synth on it was minimal enough that Walter could do it while Laurie sang in the warm contralto register that no one ever let her use. Her voice prowled through the building and seemed to crawl up the collective spine, lyrics about possession mingling perfectly with the feeling of being possessed. Dan’s guitar sobbed quietly in the background, and Hollis grinned to see the whole place spellbound. A rustling to his right made him glance over to see Adrian beaming up at him, much better equipped to blend in with their surroundings.  
  
“Might’ve known you’d be here.”  
  
“Well, y’know. I’ve had beer bottles thrown at my head.” _And if my father had been there to back me up, I’d have felt a lot better about it._ He had already adopted Laurie in the privacy of his own heart, but nowhere else and so kept his thoughts to himself.  
  
“You know, I can’t find your music _anywhere_?”  
  
“I’m not surprised. We weren’t that good.”  
  
Adrian studied him. “You know, I’m not sure that’s true.”  
  
“Is Eddie here?”  
  
“Somewhere.” He waved a manicured hand, and burst into applause when the song finished. Hollis hung around a bit longer, then quietly made his way out, sure they’d be all right when someone laughingly requested “More Than A Feeling”, and Walter’s reponse that they’d do it, but none of them knew the words and would have to make some up was greeted with a cheer.

 

Afterward, she was almost afraid of them. Almost. She had felt their eyes on her the whole time they were packing their gear up again (with a little help from Eddie, covered in lipstick marks and rolling on E) and had wondered when they would pounce. She was covered in sweat under the flightsuit, and was grateful that no one had taken it as an invitation when she had pulled the zipper down to her navel to get some air. She sighed, blowing a lock of hair out of her face and dusting her hands off. At least most of the equipment belonged to the club, so they only had to cram Dan's amp and guitar, her keyboard and its folded stand into the back, with Adrian's wings and their masks carefully folded and tucked in above them. She guessed Jon and his gels counted as equipment as well, and grinned, turning to look at him.   
  
"Thanks again, by the way."  
  
"You're welcome." They were driving him home, and she wondered how Walter and Dan could stand it the whole way. They were both practically sending off heatwaves, and okay, she didn't zip up the suit because she could be a terrible person sometimes. There was no discussion as Dan drove off into the darkness above the city, and it really was a little bit like being kidnapped. Only she was pretty sure being kidnapped wouldn't make her this wet. Well, maybe if she were kidnapped by a pair of desperadoes this beautiful and strange it might. She laughed, and Walter turned to look at her over his shoulder. She waved away his unspoken question, grinning. "Nothing, darling." She kissed him softly and he groaned, devouring her mouth as one hand got a death grip on her hair. She made surprised little mewling sound, muffled by his mouth.  
  
"Fuck, why do I always have to drive?" Dan wailed. "Christ, I'm gonna wrap us around a tree!"  
  
"Have faith in you, Dan." Walter purrs, and bites Laurie's neck with sharp teeth, making her twitch and gasp, nipples painfully hard. Dan worried his lower lip with his teeth and whimpered, staring at the road ahead.  
  
"Goddammit, I'm gonna get you guys for this, see if I don't." He panted, knuckles going white as he gripped the wheel. Somehow, he didn't crash, pulling up to the same spot they had driven to the first time. He pulled up the handbrake and let it idle because it was fucking cold out, and then they were both in motion. They stripped her more efficiently than they ever had, ganging up on her the way she and Dan so often did to Walter. It left her breathless, hands and mouths all over her skin, devouring her. With Walter's teeth at her neck and Dan's hands on her hips she whimpered, clutching at them both and cursing irritably when Dan pulled away and Walter ushered her into the front seat so they could arrange a surface. It was cramped with all the gear, but there was still just enough room for three.  
  
"God bless the hatchback." Dan muttered under his breath, rock hard, flushed, and flustered. Walter helpfully bent Laurie over, and she took the hint, unzipping his jeans. They were white, and had been his most detested pair until Walter had attacked them with a razor and made them really almost cool. They worked onstage, anyway. He growled and helped her, scrambling out of them and cursing when they got hung up on his shoes. Laurie laughed and yanked his boxers down.

 

"We really just need them out the way, wouldn't you say?" She grinned and wrapped her mouth around him, swallowing and doing her best to get him good and wet. He cursed breathlessly, knotting his hands in her hand and... Well, he was too much of gentleman to really press down, but the implication was there, and she purred around him, getting as far down as she could. Walter had a kind of natural knack for this, and had done his best to teach Laurie. Dan had told them that he really didn't care, he would take his blowjob and be thankful, okay? He didn't seem to understand that it was a point of pride. She moaned encouragingly and tried to sink down a little further, swallowing constantly like Walter had told her to. She couldn't breathe, but that didn't mean it wasn't fun, and she laughed when she pulled up to breath, Dan's tip still in her mouth.  
  
" _Fuck_ , Laurie." He breathed.  
  
"Intend to." Walter cracked, finally finding the condoms stashed in... "Toolbox, Daniel? Really?"  
  
Laurie grinned in a way that had everything to do with her eyes and nothing to do with her occupied mouth, and Dan blushed. "They're--aah... Out of the light. Not exactly--ohfuck, likely to be... checked." He panted, pulling her hair without realizing it. Laurie moaned around him, and he whimpered, hips bucking. She choked but only pulled away enough not to gag, getting right back to it. Her throat was starting to hurt, but in a good way. "Th-thought it was a pretty good place."  
  
She could hear the foil tear, even over Dan's panting, and whimpered, spreading her legs and listening to Walter's breath catch. He slid into her with one push, groaning deep in his chest and Dan whined sharply, watching him. They were both rough, their hands all over her, tangling into her hair and digging their nails into her skin. Less like scratching and more like clinging as they both kind of hilariously tried to fuck her within an inch of her life while not being too rude about it. She finally had to pull off and actually _ask_ Dan to pull her hair, but after that they were underway, probably damaging Archie's suspension. Walter's nails down her back made her wail, the sound plaintive and muffled on Dan's cock, and none of them lasted very long after that. Laurie less time than the others, working through one and coming up on another right as Walter mewled piteously, fingers jerkily working her even as he convulsed and sending her the rest of the way. Dan slipped out at the last minute, and she closed her eyes in time to keep from being blinded by come, laughing breathlessly.  
  
"S-sorry, Laurie." Dan panted, and she just laughed harder, groping around for something to wipe her face with. Walter groaned quietly from where he seemed to have tipped over as if she had hit him with a sledgehammer, and pulled her into his arms, tenderly licking her clean and making Dan groan helplessly. "Oh _fuck_ , there's a solution."


	37. Chapter 37

Hollis had to admit that he had worried about the Masks leaving Les Mis high and dry, but he realized how stupid that was in the face of their real theatre blood. The show must go on, and go on it did. And the search for young Cosette went on and on, a sudden and hideous dearth of little girls seeming to strike New York. Laurie's little cousin got strep throat, so she was out. The various tiny daughters of Hollis's acquaintance were all doing ballet recitals or gymnastics competitions, and he was sitting at his desk with his head in his hands, wondering if he'd have to do it himself, on his knees and in falsetto, when Walter appeared at his door.

"Mr. Mason?"

"Yes?"

"May have resolution for our difficulties."

"Oh?"

"Called the Roches. Blair is in good health and voice, and has the free time to help us out."

"Christ, I could kiss you. I didn't even think of that." He paused. "They know it's a show full of whores and war and consumption, right?"

Walter laughed. "They don't live under a rock, and she wants to help."

"Well, we won't talk about anyone owing anybody anything, but I can't say I blame her." Walter just coughed, uncomfortable as ever with an any allusion to his heroics, and Hollis smiled. "At least now I can make dinner reservations without this over my head."

"Reservations?"

"You're not doing anything for Valentine's Day?" And from the look on Walter's face, Hollis could see that he had forgotten, with remarkable completeness for someone with both a boyfriend and a girlfriend.

"Guys?" Walter asked, as Dan drove him and Laurie home after rehearsal. "Are we doing Valentine's Day?"

"Well, I had a couple ideas." Dan said, shrugging. "I figured we could at least go out somewhere or get a few bigass boxes of chocolate to share."

"Baby wants diamonds." Laurie said, and burst out laughing. "Seriously, I just wanna spend the day with you guys. I've never been too big into this Hallmark shit."

Dan smiled. "Somehow I think we can manage that."

Walter wound up spending the night of the thirteenth with Laurie, simply because whatever Dan's nebulous plans were, they could only be aided by no one having to drive through Walter's shithole of a neighborhood. They tangled together on the tiny mattress, and woke up in the same instant to the sound of pebbles on the window. They blinked at each other, then got up, blankets around their shoulders, and went to the window. Dan stood below, wrapped up in an old bomber jacket and a striped scarf, waving up at them. The other hand was occupied by an old acoustic guitar. Laurie grinned and threw open the window.

"Gonna serenade us?"

"Hell, yes!" He called back, laughing. "There's no songs about our situation, so you each get one. Who wants to go first?"

"Walter does." Laurie grinned, because his face was about as red as his hair.

"Great." Dan knelt and got the guitar settled comfortably, and soon "My Funny Valentine" was floating up to them, delivered with a great deal of tenderness and humor, as Walter listened spellbound and struggled unsuccessfully to be annoyed. By the time the song finished, he was definitely as red as his hair, and Dan was grinning up at them. Laurie grinned back, an arm around Walter's waist. "All right, now yours."

Hollis and Sally were pulled out of a light doze by "The Lady is a Tramp."

"What the hell..." Sally muttered.

Hollis chuckled. "I have to assume it's a serenade, and I can only hope she takes it the right way."

"Christ, I didn't even know you could play Rodgers and Hammerstein on a guitar."

"Mm. Real versatile instrument." He sat up and stretched, running his fingers through his hair. Sally propped herself on one elbow to watch him.

"Got a song for me, sugar?" She teased.

He looked at her and smiled. "Y'know, maybe I do." Hollis had always been on background vocals with the Minutemen, but his mild, unremarkable tenor was warm and sweet, still slightly husky with sleep. He sat there in Sally's rumpled bed and held her hand and sang her in "In My Dreams", obviously meaning every word of it. He kissed her hand at the end, like taking a bow, and she hugged him tightly enough to bruise him, a tear dropping onto his shoulder. "Easy, Sal." He murmured, rubbing her back. "Happy Valentine's Day."

"To you too, baby." She whispered. They sat and listened as Laurie and Walter let Dan in, rattled around for just the right amount of time to make and consume cocoa, and then breezed out, leaving the house quiet behind them.

"So, is there any chocolate left in the state of New York?" Laurie licked cherry cordial off her fingertips, sitting on the foot of Dan's bed, her back leaning comfortably against the wall. Walter was stretched out on his stomach, legs bent at the knee and his head resting on Dan's thigh, all three of them picking at the chocolates Dan had bought them.

"Dammit!" Dan laughed, stealing a piece of white chocolate from her assortment because he knew it was her least favorite. "I didn't get that much!"

"Hurm. Box is bigger than head, Dan." Walter carefully selected his eighth piece.

"Like you're not a complete hog for sweets, anyway."

"Hurm."

"Yeah, hurm is all you can say with your teeth stuck together with nougat!"

Walter just turned his head and lifted the hem of Dan's shirt to nuzzle his belly. "Not ungrateful." He murmured. "Feel bad I have nothing to give you." Laurie was encompassed in the 'you', since she gotten Walter a book of poetry and Dan one of myths from around the world.

Dan rolled his eyes. "God, don't be a putz. It's not actually required, you know."

"Still. The day just didn't register. I want to give you things, and I will."

"Just as soon as you're done stuffing your face with chocolate."

"Exactly."


	38. Chapter 38

Blair was excited to make her stage debut, and also a little afraid of Walter, once he really got going. Adrian had been right about his intensity making up for Javert being only five and a half feet tall. A week into rehearsals, Mr. Mason found her in the wings, watching his rendition of "Stars" with horrified fascination.  
  
"He does a good job, don't you think?" Mr. Mason murmured, crouching beside her. She nodded a little too vehemently, and he put a hand on her shoulder. "Too good?" She nodded more hesitantly. "Y'know, I always felt sorry for Javert."  
  
"Really?"  
  
"Yeah. He can't even be kind to himself."  
  
She turned that over in her mind. "Walter's a little like that for real."  
  
"Yeah, but only a little. Not enough to hurt."

 

"Daniel Ezekiel Dreiberg, I forbid you to throw up." Adrian said, sitting down beside Dan. "Opening night jitters are one thing, but vomit is unacceptable." He held a peppermint lozenge up to Dan's face, the fumes strong enough to make his eyes water and making him feel surprisingly better as Adrian punched some obscure pressure point, easing the worst of it.  
  
"You kung-fu is strong, Marius."  
  
"You're welcome." He sighed and stretched. "You're on, convict."  
  
And so it began. There was a certain assurance to everyone's performance, because the dress rehearsal had been abysmal, which, as they had explained to Blair, was good luck. Hollis held that it didn't matter one way or the other and was just the combination of nerves and low stakes, but he had his own prejudices against whistling in the theatre, looking through the curtain at the house, or saying 'good luck' instead of 'break a leg', so he couldn't really say anything about it. As it was, the opening was better than good. Dan was sympathetic, Walter was driven and tormented, and Adrian did his best to actually make Marius interesting with incredible success.   
  
No one cried during 'Master of the House' or laughed during 'A Little Fall of Rain, and if 'Dog Eat Dog' and 'Stars' were a little _too_ good, there was nothing Hollis could have done about it. He sat way up in the back row where he always did, chin propped on his hands, watching intently. Sally was way down in the front rows, as always preferring proximity to distance, and he smiled, turning his eyes away from the production to watch her every once in a while. One of her many virtues was that of being a great audience, and her face was almost as good as a mirror for what went on onstage. Separated by the depth of the house, they both joined in the standing ovation that greeted the curtain call.  
  
Blair beamed in the footlights, and Hollis was filled with a shock of gratitude to see her up there, glowing and alive and only a few nightmares away from perfect psychological health. He quietly made his way backstage, and was there to greet them when they ran off, giggling and high on adrenaline. Blair skipped and spun and would have fallen over if Walter hadn't caught her, grinning. Ursula sauntered over to collect her, throwing the kid over her shoulder like a sack of potatoes and making caveman noises as she carried her off to take off her makeup.  
  
The others mostly took care of themselves, no one in need of anything more involved than old age lines, all the boys squabbling over the cold cream until Hollis told them they sounded like a sorority in 1955 and he would know.  
  
"Well, if the princess here wouldn't take so friggin' long..."  
  
"Just because some people don't realize that their skin is a vital organ..."  
  
"Guys," Daniel said over the rustling of paper towels as he scrubbed white paint out of his hair. "Stop flirting and give me the damn jar."  
  
Finally, scrubbed and slightly damp in their street clothes, everyone came out again to exchange fond farewells, consigning Blair to her parents, and Eddie and Adrian to be fussed over by Eddie's mother. Dan and Laurie went to their own parents long enough to be hugged and congratulated, and then escaped hand in hand in hand with Walter.

 

Blair didn't mind church so much. The preacher could get boring, but she had a Bible to practice her reading with, which her mother said was okay, since it was still church-related, and educational. And of course there was always the choir part, which was the best part. Especially since Walter had started coming. He never said any prayers and he never took communion, but he always walked her to Sunday School, and could usually be prevailed upon to come home with them for dinner, not as awkward in his suit as most boys his age. He only had two, and both were what her mother called 'pinstripe', because the the stripes were only about that wide.  
  
He told Blair he had sewn them both to fit, and this mastery of a girl's skill had filled her with admiration rather than derision. After all, her dad cooked. She pondered this as she sat backstage, letting Ursula do her makeup. They were in the second week of their two-week run, and she was glad. It had been fun, but everyone was starting to get tired of it, not just her. You could only do a play so many times before you got sick of it. She felt tremendously grown-up, knowing that, and kicked her feet in their rag wrappings. The only disappointment of her role was not getting to wear anything pretty, but she liked her song and liked being important.  
  
"Are you about done with the half-pint, Ursula?" Laurie was struggling with masses of beautiful dark hair, which seemed determined to escape in every direction.  
  
"Just about." Ursula murmured around the bobby pins in her mouth, carefully lining Blair's eyes. "Okay, you can blink. Good job." She pulls back. "Now, just make sure not to mess yourself up, okay?"  
  
"Okay!" She chirped, and moved to sit on the very corner of the makeup counter, watching everyone get ready, a forest of limbs and costumes. The way the whole room smelled like girls was soothing, and Blair wondered what she would look like when she grew up. A minute later, there was a knock on the door, and Mr. Mason's voice warning them that the curtain was in ten minutes. She hopped off the counter and went to go find Walter. He had stopped being quite as scary to her, but he was still a little unnerving when he really got going. It was okay before, though. He sat on a crate in the wings, always in costume and makeup before anyone else.  
  
"Hi." She hopped up beside him and moved to give her room.  
  
"Hi." He said, smiling faintly. "How you doing?"  
  
"Tired."  
  
"I think we all are."  
  
"Princess is going to have kittens."  
  
"She is? I thought she was just getting fat."  
  
"You can have one if you want."  
  
"...I'll have to ask." Walter never mentioned his mother, not even to say he'd have to ask her in particular. Blair wondered about that sometimes, and had to assume it was something really sad. She was wearing shorts under her dress, and hiked the skirt up to pull out two hard candies, passing one to him. "What kind is it?"  
  
"I don't know, they're all kinds." And there's no checking the colors back here, so she just puts hers in her mouth and hopes it isn't lime. Banana bursts across her tongue, and she grins. Walter rolls his around in his mouth.  
  
"Black cherry, I think. Thank you, Blair."

 

There is unanimous agreement to postpone the cast party. Blair is 'totally awesome for a little kid' to quote Kyle Chapman, the sixth grader borrowed to play Gavroche, and really, so is Kyle, so they flood the diner and stay until eleven o'clock, when Blair is drooping against Walter's shoulder, stuffed with dessert. Her parents and Kyle's arrive at almost the same time, and the others adjourn with them, Adrian leaving a hundred dollar tip with all the nickles and dimes to compensate the staff for their trouble. Dan just looked at the faint scars on his palms and smiled, glancing over at Laurie to see her thinking the same thing.  
  
Adrian's place was neatly laid out in advance, and soon enough the festivities were in full swing. The host, after making his rounds, vanished into his own walk-in closet with his pipe and his cat, more pensive than the general mood. He brought the notes for Senior Ball with him, propping them up on Bubastis to read. The faint sound of the door opening made him look up. "Walter. Come in."  
  
"Seemed like it might be quiet here." He sat across from Adrian, and Bubastis deserted her post to pour herself into his lap, purring.  
  
"Mm. How goes it downstairs?"  
  
"Pretty well. Jimmy's throwing up, but that's what Jimmy does."  
  
Adrian sighed. "It is contained, isn't it?"  
  
"Yeah, Dan found him a basin."  
  
"Being the battlefield nurse again?"  
  
"I love him for it."  
  
"Ah, so you _are_ drunk. Not that you don't feel this way sober, just that you never own up so gracefully."  
  
"What about you and Eddie?" He asked, cocking his head and still petting the cat. "Do you love him? I can't tell."  
  
"I think I do, but I couching it in those terms would be problematic."  
  
"Oh?"  
  
He sighed, looking at Walter for a long time before closing the binder of notes. "I'm going to explain it to you, because I think you'll understand."  
  
"Really?"  
  
"Yes. Hit this, you're drunk enough for the paranoia to roll off." Walter obeyed, holding in the fragrant smoke as though he did it all the time. "I think I want Eddie for life. I'm in fact something like ninety-eight percent sure, but that's neither here nor there. Hit it again." Walter did. "But I am completely certain that commitment terrifies him. The plan is to hold on loosely, as the song says, but not to let go. I will give him complete freedom, and gradually reel him in as we age, should things not blow up on in our faces or fade out on the way."  
  
"...You're really manipulative, Adrian."  
  
"I know, it's terrible, isn't it? Take another hit."  
  
"I feel really fucked up now, man. What's the theme for Senior Ball?" He took the hit, and passed the pipe back to Adrian, shifting closer to look at the binder, which Adrian opened again.  
  
"Millennium won the vote, thanks to my pointing it out as a perfect mirror image of Nostalgia."  
  
"Puppetmaster. Still, it sounds fun."  
  
"I try to use my powers for good."  
  
"Is retro-futuristic okay?"  
  
"Retro-futuristic is _perfect_."


	39. Chapter 39

With both Senior Ball and Spring Break still ahead, no one felt particularly productive. It wasn't as bad as the run-up to summer, but there was still a certain lack of will. Walter doodled in the margins of his chicken scratch math notes, long past comprehending the lecture and therefore not listening to it. He could handle numbers as long as they were handleable, but this imaginary shit continued to elude him. The bell jolted him awake, and he scooped up his things, waiting by the door for Laurie. Their teacher had moved her across the room once it had become common knowledge that they formed part of an item. Walter dimly resented this slight to their professionalism, but protest was the surest way to prove the opposition right. He took her hand when she reached him, and they headed off to Walter's locker first, since it was the closest.

"Adrian wants us to help decorate again, once he finds a place."

"Why not use the Domino Room again?"

She rolled her eyes. "It doesn't fit with the theme, silly." She said, in an uncannily fey and accurate impression of Adrian. 

Walter grinned. "Well, I guess it doesn't."

"Speaking of theme..." She leaned against the adjacent locker as Walter put in his combination with the mien of a safecracker in a suspense flick, and smiled. "Tomorrow, noon, my place. We have to have fabulous outfits."

"Hn. Dan and I will have to settle for 'not too fucking ridiculous'."

"Pfft, we'll find a way to make you look hot. No silver jumpsuits."

"Promise?" He muttered, hauling out his battered backpack and cramming everything into it.

"Promise. C'mon." She took his hand again, and they got her things and Dan's, since they both knew his combination, and went to wait outside the locker room. Dan hadn't gotten gym out of the way in freshman year like everybody else thanks to some kind of Honors math class and was paying for it now. After a minute or two an avalanche of reeking boys bolted past, all apparently riding the bus home. The next wave was slower, those who could drive themselves home trickling out, still damp from their showers. Dan was one of the last, and beamed when he saw them. "Home, James!" Laurie told him, tossing his backpack into his arms.

"Will there be anything else, milady?"

Laurie replied with a proposition so filthy that they both blushed all the way to Archie as she laughed.

The next day, she was puttering around her room, all possible components laid out, along with donations from her mother's closet, when she heard them arrive, and the muted tones of their greetings to her mother before coming upstairs. "Come in, guys! I hope you brought some good shit with you."

"Hurm." Walter gave her a kiss on the cheek, and dumped a sack of secondhand things and rejects from work onto the empty end of the bed.

Dan repeated the caress on the other side, looking sheepish. "I just have some metal stuff that could totally put someone's eye out and probably won't be allowed."

"Well, let's have a look at it anyway."

The kid had come back with a sack of shit to sew the night before, smelling like that girl's goddamned expensive perfume, which was normal enough. An actual visitor on the doorstep bore closer inspection, and Sylvia squinted down at the kid, hungover and in no mood. For anything. "Whaddya want?" She growled around the second cigarette of the day, suddenly wanting to hook her chipped red nails into that milk-perfect skin and pull, old rage at guys with money and their precious little college boy sons bubbling like sludge boiling. He seemed to see it in her eyes, but just smiled in a way that was almost sweet, blue-green eyes like a heavy glass edge-on.

"I've come to see Walter, if he's around."

"And who shall I say is callin'?" She sneered.

"Adrian." He didn't turn a hair when she slammed the door in his face, and waited while she went and bawled to Walter that some faggot friend of his had showed up.

More than anything, Walter was deeply embarrassed to have Adrian within ten miles of his home, let alone standing in his doorway and seeing his posters and books and the thousand other tiny affects of his personality on the dingy space. Let alone standing there having traversed the intervening space and seen the kitchen, with scummy water and last week's dishes standing in the sink, and the stains on the hall carpet and the stink and every other goddamned thing. Most of all, he scrambled to hide his notebook, full of The Shape of Incipient Emptiness, a title he loathed as pretentious despite having nothing better.

"Dammit, no one comes here."

"I know, but I had to talk to you." He picked his way through the clutter to sit down in Walter's flimsy straight back chair, sunlight through the broken blinds gilding his hair.

"About?" Walter couldn't shake the feeling of unreality, almost of divine visitation.

"Your future, actually. I want you to have one." He set a sheaf of papers in front of Walter.

"What."

"College isn't for everyone, but I think it might be your only chance at a career that doesn't involve hunching over a Singer in somebody's basement."

"Don't use Singer, use offbrand abortions from Taiwan."

"My point."

"Won't take handout."

"I know that, Walter. That's why I've taken the liberty of putting you down for every scholarship you have even half a chance at. You have to write the essays yourself."

"...Why?"

"Do I have to have a reason for everything?!" Adrian threw his hands up in despair. "I'm not a goddamn Bond villain!"

"Positive?"

"What?"

"Positive you're not a Bond villain?" Walter asks, very seriously. "Spend a lot of time at your enormous desk petting your fluffy cat."

Adrian laughed. "And I'm queer for Ancient Egypt, don't forget that. I have a built-in gimmick."

around in his kitchen and doing his level best not to let on.

"There you are! Been a busy little faggot, haven't you?"

"Now that you mention it, yes, I have." He went into the kitchen to join Eddie, who was making sandwiches (the height of his culinary skill, along with microwaving things prepared by more competent hands) with an unlit cigarette hanging from his lips. Adrian plucked it out and kissed him, gratified as always to hear the little whining noise Eddie made in the back of his throat. "You're the most orally-fixated person I've ever seen." Adrian murmured, the tip of his tongue tracing just inside Eddie's lower lip and making him shiver.

"Look," he breathed, "if you're trying to make me fuck up the sandwiches just say so and we can order something."

Adrian chuckled and pulled away enough to look at them. "While I do enjoy peanut butter and jelly..."

Eddie snorted. "Look, it was the best I could do. You hate every kind of lunchmeat in the world."

And Adrian did hate every kind of lunchmeat in the world, including the supply he'd started keeping for guests. "Really, I've been considering vegetarianism. It wouldn't be that much of a change."

"Just don't make me go with you and we're fine."

Adrian chuckled, watching as Eddie took his own roast beef on rye to the table to devour it. "I don't think I'd dare. Even if you gave in, you'd probably roll over in your sleep and commit cannibalism some night."

"Damn straight." And because Eddie's inner child was always perilously easy to see and heartbreakingly needy, Adrian went to join him. "I used that organic shit. And that weird imported jam."

"Bilberry." Adrian purred, savoring it. "It's good for your eyes, you know."

"Really? You'd think it'd taste like shit."

"Watermelon has more iron than spinach, Eddie. Open your mind." He made a vague 'mystical' gesture with his free hand, and they both cracked up. "Seriously, I have a job for you."

"Oh?"

"I'll show you in a minute." Sandwiches quickly engulfed, Adrian grabbed clean steel wool from under the sink, and led Eddie to one of the back rooms, where a gleaming drum set stood.

"Fuckin' sweet." Eddie muttered, studying it from all angles.

"I think the Masks need a set. And I know they'll insist on paying me back for it." He tossed the wool to Eddie. "Make it look used, would you?"

"...You are an evil fuckin' genius, Adrian."

"So I've heard."

"Seriously, keep smokin' weed, I'm scared of what would happen if you weren't mellow."

"I can only imagine I would be Lex Luthor. With more giant monsters, because you know I'd never be able to resist having panthers and all that." He sighed, and sat on the floor, cupping his chin in his hands as he watched Eddie work. "...I remind Walter of a Bond villain."

"You do have the sharp suits and the art and the sick thing with your cat."

"Am I really so creepy?" It came out more plaintive than he wanted it to, and Eddie stopped sanding, turning to face him.

"Adrian, you've got me here scrubbing a new drum set with steel wool to trick the people it's for into thinking it's used so they feel less indebted to you, you basically forced me into going to college to even us up for what you've done for my mom, and I saw you mailing all that shit for Walter. You're a complete freak."

"I just try to keep everyone's best interests at heart." He felt perilously close to tears, and Eddie sighed, watching him.

"You do. It's just creepy because if you didn't, we'd all be fucked. You can't expect people not to look up as you play them like pawns, and think 'if this isn't really in my best interest, am I gonna figure that out in time?" He sighed, studying Adrian, and crawled over, knocking him onto his back and ranging over him. "Hey."

"Hey."

"This shit? Totally fine. If you promise not to fling me out a high-rise window, I'll tell you when you get bad-creepy."

"Okay." He absently wrapped one hand into Eddie's shirt. "Do you really feel that coerced?"

"Nah. You're paying Ma enough that she can start insisting."

"Wonderful."  
The Domino Room was far from the right venue, and looking around, Adrian was glad he had stuck to his guns. The Silver Room of another hotel had answered beautifully. Actually very old-fashioned, it looked futuristic bedizened with glowsticks and neon tubing, gorgeous old wallpaper gleaming. Looking upon his work and finding it good, Adrian relaxed back against the wall and snagged a finger sandwich off the refreshment table.

"Hey, I thought androids didn't need to eat."

Adrian blinked gold-frosted eyelids. "Dear god, you complied with the theme on purpose."

Eddie looked up, space pirate gauntlets already wrapped around four tiny sandwiches. "What?"

"Last year you were perfect '50s, whether you knew it or not."

"Heh." He shrugged, self-conscious in his scuffed leather and cobbled together raygun. "Well, y'know. I always kinda liked Halloween..."

"It is a lot more like a masquerade ball this time, isn't it?" Adrian murmured as Dan and Laurie spun by, an alien princess and a cyborg.

"Seems to me like the only kind worth having, since dancing sucks anyway."

"Oh, Eddie. Don't you know I want to dance to "We Are the World" at our enormous frilly white wedding?"

Eddie laughed. "Kill you deader than Elvis before I'd let that happen, princess."

"I know, pookie-bear."

"You sicken me." Walter said quietly, prodding Adrian until he got out of the way of the eclairs.

"Same to you and more of it, fella." Adrian said, studying his ragged wrappings and improvised gas mask. "Why are you a hobo?"

"Come from a dystopian, post-Collapse future."

"Our little raincloud." Eddie cooed. "Christ, my future might be full of grime and corruption, but at least we have lasers and kickass spaceships."

"Hurm." Walter quietly loaded a paper plate with enough food for three. "Blasted wastelands in mine. Mutated creatures, poisoned water. The last of humanity scrabbling like roaches over the leprous skin of the dying earth."

"...Jesus, Walter."

"Besides, it's all I had the stuff for." He wandered off to the little corner table the three of them had claimed for their own, and Adrian threw back his head and laughed.


	40. Chapter 40

It was an interesting bookend to Prom, the three of them sure of each other instead of barely begun. Walter still blushed as the other two towed him off, but felt safe behind his mask. "Remind me to tell your mom I love her, okay?" Laurie asked as Dan unlocked their room.

"What, for agreeing with yours?" There had been a long and miserable conversation about the responsibilities of being sexually active that had nearly made Walter crawl under the couch cushions and left Dan's dad in a similar state, but the end result was worth it. Their room at the other hotel had been kind of funky, sort of hippie-influenced, when they had bothered to look. This was almost Victorian, and Dan whistled as he took in the four-poster.

"We match!" Laurie cried gleefully, and threw herself down on it. Sure enough, her black and gold went very well with its gold and black, and Walter muttered something about wanting to photograph it before Dan pushed his mask forward just enough to nibble his ear, making him melt back against Dan's chest. "Man, I wanna photograph you. Get his mask off, Dan."

"Your wish is my command." He muttered, and unhooked it with cyborg gauntlets. Walter whimpered softly, the sound becoming a breathy cry as Dan bit the side of his neck.

"Wow, he's hard already."

Walter let out a humiliated little whine. "Had a share of Eddie's contraband."

"So we're taking advantage of your drunken state?" Dan teased, reaching down to squeeze him through the front of his jeans, faded and worn to the point of being an idea. And wonderfully tight around the ass, but Dan and Laurie had already made a pact never to mention it so Walter would keep wearing them.

"Not drunk." He sounded affronted, but it melted into a moan as Dan rubbed him slowly.

"Just comfortable?" Laurie grinned at them, undoing her high collar.

"Just--aahn!" Whatever he was instead of drunk was lost to the ages as Dan unzipped his jeans and slid a hand inside.

"Dan, don't you dare jerk him off enough to finish." Laurie rolled her dress off of her shoulders, pulling her arms out of the sleeves and unhooking her bra with gloved hands.

"I'll do my best, but really, Laurie." He grinned at her over Walter's head, "you're asking a lot."

She just smirked, standing up to strip properly. There was no real bump and grind to it, Walter had Standards, but it was still a show. Dan held Walter close, rubbing against his back a little because damn, touching him but never enough to let him get anywhere. They both stared as Laurie unveiled familiar skin inch by inch, finally down to one long back glove. She pulled it off with her teeth, and looped it around Walter's neck like a leash to pull him into a kiss. He moaned, shaking, and Dan bit his neck again. 

"Guys, I dunno how much more of this I can take." Dan groaned against Walter's skin. Walter made a formless, high-pitched noise, struggling out of his clothes.

"So do something about it." Laurie grinned and helped Walter while Dan hurled down all his barely-allowed metal, stripping and joining them on the bed, where Walter had melted onto his back, Laurie pinching his nipples in the way he usually wouldn't admit he liked. As Dan crawled onto the blanket beside him. Laurie lowered her mouth to replace her hands, and Walter cried out desperately.

"Fuck me." He whimpered, flushing all over. "Please, please, I want--" His desire choked him again, and Laurie groaned, sinking her teeth into his shoulder.

"Tell us, baby." She purred.

Walter just moaned, hiding his face in one hand. "We can't do what you want if we don't know exactly what it is." Laurie murmured, watching him with bright, feline eyes, trailing her fingernails down his belly and lightly around his cock, lightly slapping Dan's hand when he reached for it. Walter groaned, and Dan could feel himself blushing at least as badly.

"Laurie..."

"I insist." She smiled at him in a way that turned his bones to water, the feeling almost like fear.

Walter writhed for a moment before rolling onto his belly abjectly and whimpering, "Both of you, both of you, please," and then burying his burning face in the pillow.

"Always," Laurie purred, "but how do you want us now?" 

It was Dan who moaned, Walter sobbing into the pillow as those big hands soothingly rubbed his back, easing both their trembling. "Please, please, I can't-- Laurie--" His appeal to her was instinctive, knowing that Dan was as much enthralled as himself.

She took pity on him enough to make her questions more specific, her hands joining Dan's, gentling him and then digging her nails into the back of his neck, making him groan. "You want Dan inside you, don't you?"

"Yes." The word is bitten off, hardly anything more than an emphatic hiss.

"And me?" Laurie murmured, leaning down to nibble his ear and trail rock hard nipples over his back. Walter whined desperately, stalled out on the edge of the unspeakable, and squirmed against the mattress. "Hold his hips, would you, Dan?" Dan would and did, whimpering and wondering if it would even stop anything at this point, but glad for the excuse to grip Walter and hold him, smooth speckled skin and iron muscle.

"Want... n-need to lick you, need to give you that, just--" He dissolved into making helpless little sounds into the pillow that made Dan afraid he really was crying.

Laurie kissed the back of Walter's neck, stroking his hair. "Good boy," she said softly, and Dan could feel the words pass under his hands as they shivered along Walter's skin, making his friend keen softly and melt. Laurie moved to sit against the headboard, gently taking away the pillow and opening her legs to Walter. There were tearstains on the pillowcase after all, but he just whined, tenderly lapping at her clit, burying his face between her thighs. Laurie groaned, knotting her hands in his hair as Dan scrambled for the lube and thanked god for boxers with pockets.

It was a revelation every time, that Walter could actually trust another human being to be inside him. That he was even physically capable of relaxing and trusting so much. He pressed one slick finger into him and was shocked at quickly Walter swallowed it, moaning against Laurie. "I think he can take more than that, Dan," Laurie said with a feral grin, so fierce and beautiful he could barely look at her, her hips grinding little circles. He went from one to three, a jump that was usually a bit much, but Walter just groaned and pressed back. Laurie licked her lips, watching. "You'd better get in him while the getting's good, Dan. He's only human."

Dan groaned, and took her advice, sinking into Walter in one long, smooth thrust that felt endless. He usually waited for Walter to adjust, a moment of vibrating, agonized stillness. This time he knew he didn't need to, and Walter wailed, fortunately muffled by Laurie. He shuddered and spasmed between them, and in a few eternal minutes came with no one touching his cock, still frantically working away at Laurie, dragging the others with him in seconds, to collapse in a shuddering, sticky mess, just breathing quietly.

Laurie shocked all of them, herself included, by bursting into tears just as Dan started to extricate himself for the shower that always eventually superseded snuggling. Walter sat bolt upright, as if they had finally broken or sullied her in some indefinable way he'd been dreading since the beginning, and Dan turned back to blink at her. "Laurie?"

"What the fuck are we gonna do next year, guys? Dan, I know you've got a partial ride to Harvard, I know my mom wants me to go to Julliard..."

"Shit." Dan sat back down. "Well, I've been thinking about it in the cold light of day whenever I can..."

"Going to advocate infidelity. Can tell." Walter grumbled, and Laurie hugged him tightly.

Dan sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Look. I've known people who got married at our age, and a good eighty percent of them regretted it for the rest of their lives. It might be best to graciously release each other for a given period of time. I mean, I really don't think we can do much better than what we've got, but wondering about it later is the stuff divorces are made of."

"Can't all get married, anyway." Walter muttered, and Laurie sighed.

"So what? We ride out the rest of the year, and then make an appointment to be an item again?"

"...Well, it sounds really cold when you put it like that."

"It is really cold, Dan. Still, might be correct."

"Correct?" Laurie muttered.

"Healthiest perhaps better word."

"You get really telegraphic when you're trying not to be emotional, buddy."

"You get really technical." He stuck his tongue out at Dan, who sighed and enfolded Walter into his arms, making his friend melt and curl up confidingly.

"Maybe I do." He stroked Walter's red curls, considering. "It might be the inevitable defense of the scientist."

"Hrrmmph. Should've been Spock."

"Well, we would've had to go as a set. You'd be McCoy."

"Who am I, Chapel?"

"I was thinking Kirk, honestly. You look better in gold than blue." Dan grinned at her, and Laurie had to laugh.

"Still haven't addressed the question." Walter growled.

"Hell, guys. I've been ad-libbing this whole thing." He kissed the corner of Walter's eye. "I have no idea what's best, I just know I love you both to death and don't want to ruin anything for either of you."

Laurie kissed each of them in turn. "I feel the same way."

"Hrrmph. Have never expected this to last. Too good to be mine."

"Jesus fuck, Walter. Don't make me haul you down to a Justice of the Peace and marry you just to prove you wrong."


	41. Chapter 41

Adrian woke up on the first day of spring break and smiled. He called Dan to make sure he was at home, and then disassembled and packed up the drum set, bearing it over and telling his lie about getting it for one-fifty at a secondhand shop and reluctantly accepting Dan's promise of what would really be only about a ten percent repayment.

"You have no idea how much Laurie's gonna love this, man." Dan said, as he set it up in the garage, all bright eyes and competent hands.

"Oh, I may have an inkling."

Dan sighed. "I just hope Walter doesn't get all weird about it. You know him."

"I do, I do, but real artists are never too proud to refuse supplies or equipment."

"Y'think?" Dan grinned at him.

"Well, mostly."

Despite their post-coital conversation after Ball, all three realized how stupid it would be to waste the time they were sure of worrying, and Laurie and Walter arrived together for the planned jam session. Dan felt a little ridiculous, like a over-indulgent father presenting a car or some other massive gift. Naturally, Walter was as suspicious as Laurie was delighted, but it did look reasonably battered, sounded fantastic. They hadn't realized how much the synth had been hampering Laurie as she started to really hammer, blending rhythms and filling the room with a wild heartbeat.

Dan had no choice but to join in, and the two of them settled down into something stark and minimalist, slow and insinuating and kind of creepy. And then Laurie laughed, recognizing the tune they had fallen into and so profoundly altered.

"You said you wanted to round the set out with a few covers, right?"

Walter cocked his head, and then grinned, swaying slightly to the beat.

A week later, the Masks debuted their very own version of 'Brand New Key', Walter purring the vocals over Dan and Laurie's dark, quiet version of the tune. It sounded like something that might play at an abandoned funhouse in a horror movie, twanging and plinking with the purring menace of Laurie's drums beneath it, her soft strikes on the cymbals like the barely-sheathed claws of a cat. Writhing in his torn red dress and harlot mask, he sounded deranged, a psychotic stalker who wanted to wear his beloved's skin. It was beautiful and wrong and in the crowd Adrian beamed.

Hollis had really stopped worrying about the Masks. They had hit their stride. Having done the same in his modest way decades ago, he could recognize it. So, with that sense of relief bubblign through him, he took the night off. Rather than grading, fretting, or planning for next year, he took Sally to a screening of the old Minutemen serials in an ancient, rundown theater of his acquaintance. It had been years since either of them had seen the things, and Sally grinned in the flickery black and white.

"Hey, I think the whole band's here." She waved to Rolf and Nelly a few rows ahead, and Byron indicated his presence with a rattle of his popcorn box.

Hollis chuckled. "Well, they are our namesakes."

"Is that Bill with Byron?"

"What, you didn't know they were an item?"

"Subtle." Sally grinned and stole more of Hollis's popcorn as yet another episode ended with the predictable weekly cliffhanger, in this case Captain Metropolis at the mercy of gangsters.

"Well, you know. Larry doesn't actually care who his staff sleeps with, but he appreciates it if we're not obvious."

"...So how the hell does Nelly get by?"

Hollis snorted. "By bringing our average history, civics, and social studies scores up by a solid twenty percent."

Sally smiled, watching Nelly rest his head on Rolf's shoulder.

"Perhaps this is pathological in some way." Adrian's voice was mournful and very, very quiet as he resealed Laurie's acceptance letter from the university of her choice (not Julliard.) It was a quiet and perfect dawn, waiting to bloom into a peach of a spring day.

Eddie crammed his sleeve into his mouth, muffling hysterical laughter down to sniggering. "Perhaps?!" He whisper-screamed, and started laughing again. Adrian just rolled his eyes and tucked the letter back into the mailbox, grabbing Eddie's free hand and tiptoeing away. There had been similar visits to Walter and to Dan, in between Adrian flogging Eddie through the necessary reading to pass his finals. Though as Adrian had said at the time, he wasn't particularly worried about Dan. The boy was headed directly for Harvard and didn't really want another course.

Laurie spent as much time as she could with Walter and Dan, all of them poised in different directions. Walter's full ride to art school was a bit of a surprise, and he muttered darkly about Adrian and interference as Dan whooped and Laurie covered him in kisses. The Masks had to turn down several gig offers, and Walter almost had a nervous breakdown over math review, but they got through it all right, just in time to fret over graduation as the weather warmed.

Adrian shocked everyone by not putting forth any brilliant ideas for the ceremony or the grad party afterward, and Hollis was rather touched to hear him say that if anything belonged to everyone, this did. Ursula replied that if the school hadn't wanted Adrian to plan every single formal event for his entire tenure there, they would have burned him at the stake freshman year.

Graduation day dawned bright and much earlier than Walter had really been prepared for. He rolled out of bed and took a moment to just stare at his gown before putting it on. The school's colors were green and gold, and he had opted to look like a leprechaun instead of a mustard bottle, yanking on the green robe and tucking the stupid matching mortarboard under one arm. If it wasn't for his friends, he wouldn't even attend. As it was, he slipped out and was waiting on the sidewalk when Archie pulled up.

Dan rolled down the window and grinned at him, Laurie in the shotgun seat. "Come on, man!"

"Where are you parents?"

"Gonna meet us there. Remember, we have to prove we can walk down an aisle in an orderly fashion."

Neither of them asked about Walter's mother, figuring (correctly) that she was still asleep and Walter preferred it that way.

Adrian had chosen the venue, and had done as well as ever, digging up a surprisingly non-ugly convention center. He was there when they arrived, making his green robe look like something a person might actually want to wear, perusing his speech.

Dan winced. "Any advice for the salutorian?"

Adrian looked up at him and smiled. "Just be your beautiful self, Dan."

"Still can't believe Jon didn't get it."

"As if he's any better at public speaking. And look at the bright side, I'm the one who has to provide the end note."

"You know you'll do fine."

Adrian didn't get a chance to reply to that, since it was time to prove that they could walk up an aisle without fucking it up. They had to do it three times before everyone was satisfied, and then scurried off to get themselves together as parents and other onlookers began to file in. Regrouped in the center, everyone looked around for their people. Ursula's whole terrifying Austrian clan was there, along with Dan's relatives, Sally, and the Roches, who caught Walter's eye and waved, making him smile.

Adrian didn't bother looking, and was deeply surprised to hear a sharp whistle. "Yo! Adrian!" He met Eddie's eyes and grinned, then stared past him, shocked to see Duc and his family beaming as if he was one of their own. He waved to them and blinked suddenly stinging eyes.

Walter was in the next row, and having problems of his own. He had assumed that his mother wouldn't come, and that it was for the best. Her few appearances at school events throughout his life had generally been humiliating. Even if she did show up sober, she usually looked as if she had just barely scraped herself off the floor, so the neat, clean woman watching him with clear eyes could almost have been a stranger, her red hair combed and curled, her makeup restrained and expertly applied. He swallowed hard around the lump in his throat as she smiled at him.

Jacob though back to his bad reaction to Dan coming out and was profoundly grateful for this moment. He didn't have to look at his wife to know she was thinking the same thing. Whether or not the legions of extended family agreed didn't matter, and it wasn't really their business anyway. Despite his acting experience, for about half a second Dan looked very like the pudgy little boy who forgot all his lines at the holiday pageant and fled the stage bawling, but then he smiled, leaned confidingly up to the mic, and began. Susan had helped with the speech, but it was all his own. He rambled a bit, as he was wont to do, but it wasn't overlong, and sweet with sincerity. Looking out at his loved ones, Dan said that he and his classmates had received a fine education, in all ways. Even as her husband was nodding appreciatively and her own eyes are welling up, Susan caught sight of something that stopped her dead. 

Someone, rather. She applauded her son off the stage, then jabbed her husband's ribs with her elbow, and indicated the red-headed woman ahead of them and to their left. She had only seen Sylvia Kovacs twice before, never sober and never in anything but a tattered house dress over a stained slip. Today she was wearing a quiet blue floral print. Sure, she was still heavy, but it looked matronly this way. She was actually wearing stockings, and a pair of ankle-strap beige pumps that Susan would not have believed she owned. Her lank red mop had turned into soft waves, and the purse clutched in her lap matched her shoes. She shifted her head to get a lock of hair out of her eyes, and Susan could see her makeup, careful brown pencils and just enough of a face to even her skin. Jacob missed these subtleties, but was as stunned as his wife.

For Walter the actual handing out of diplomas went by in a blur. He was just glad no one expected him to talk, and that he could simply take it and walk off on autopilot, blind to everything but his mother's bizarrely lovely face. He had never seen her like this before. Not in public, not within the past ten years. She actually looked... ladylike. He dimly remembered the shoes and bag being trotted out to desultory job interviews, but had never seen the dress. He watched her all through his time onstage and when he was in his seat again after Ursula had finally gotten her diploma. Adrian was still up there, and went to the podium when everyone when everyone was settled, academic and other honors around his neck, adjusting the microphone and gathering himself.

Adrian had a lot to say about the future, change, and all that good shit. Eddie wondered if anyone notices the sense that he actually had a goddamn plan, or if it was just him. He summed up with something really deep about love, because he was a hippie faggot, and then they're free. Eddie didn't envy them the bullshit and was now dreading his own boring graduation, but he did envy their freedom. Sure, real world yada yada, but. He would be going back to school in September on the yellow bus with the rest of the kids and they wouldn't, whatever else they might be doing. Everyone's parents wanted to hug and congratulate, of course. His mom hugged Adrian and the old Vietnamese lady huggd Adrian and gave him some little present and it really looked like he was gonna cry for a minute.

The redhead that must have been Walter's mother was pretty weird. Eddie had always figured there was something fucked up going on at home, but apparently she had at least got her act together today so Walter wouldn't have to be ashamed of her, and that was real sweet. He would never say so, but it was. She didn't hug her kid for a long while, just stood there with her hands on his shoulders while he looked at her like he had never seen her before. They were a little stiff at first, but soon enough had managed to give him a real hug and even to smile at him.

"Walter! Walter, hi!"

Walter let of his mother, not sure if he was glad to or not, her softness embarrassing but soothing. "Blair! Hi!"

"I can't believe you sat through all that!"

"Of course we did!" Mrs. Roche beamed at them, and before they knew what had happened, everyone had gotten an envelope of money. Even Adrian, who sputtered in a frantic effort to give it back. They shut him down brutally, with very stern instructions to blow what little there was on something utterly frivolous to celebrate. He swore he would, and then it was off home to change for the grad party.


	42. Chapter 42

Graduation always made Hollis misty-eyed, and hiding it from Sally was hard and eventually futile. Safely behind the wheel in the parking lot, he pulled out a tissue and dabbed at his eyes, feeling like a ridiculous maiden aunt at a wedding.

"Sorry, Sal."

"Good thing Laurie's riding with Dan."

"Because this way she can't make fun of me?"

Sally grinned. "No, because this way she won't gag when I do this." She leaned across the gearshift and kissed him deeply. When he was breathless and definitely shocked out of being maudlin, she pulled away, lightly touching his cheek. "It's sweet that you care. Don't worry, you're enough of a man to balance being a sissy once in a while."

He had to laugh, starting the car. "Well, if you think so I'm satisfied."

They passed Nelly and Rolf on the way out, Rolf hunched over the steering wheel like a bad-tempered bear driving a clown car, and Hollis had to grin. Nelly leaned on Rolf's shoulder, bawling his eyes out. "You know, it'd just be annoying faggotry, but he really does feel deeply," Sally mused as they pulled away towards her house.

Hollis nodded. "Sensitive guy. I've always wondered how in the hell he and Rolf manage."

Sally gazed thoughtfully at the innocent beside her, and thought better of mentioning that the silver ring on Nelly's right hand had 'SLAVE' engraved inside the band. "Well, they've lasted pretty well, even with Laurie and Eddie popping out of the woodwork."

"True enough." He glanced over at her. "How do you feel about Eddie popping out of the woodwork?"

"Honestly, I used to wonder why I liked him so much, considering I barely know the kid. It's because he reminds me of Laurie."

"I guess so." Hollis chuckled, and soon they pulled up to the house, parking beside Archie and making plenty of noise on the way in. Sure, the kids come running down bright-eyed and with their clothing in disarray, but it is on, Dan and Walter defaulting to fresh jeans and clean t-shirts, Laurie in the adorable sundress Sally had gotten her for her birthday and been hoping she'd wear sometime this millennium. Laurie hugged her mother and Hollis, and Sally kissed both the boys on the cheek, Walter bright red as he accepted his warm and manly handshake from Hollis.

Sally enjoined them all to have fun, and to call their parents if the grad party was hokey and they found a better one.

The official grad party was loving and warm, but also hokey in the extreme and full of bad music, worse snacks, and later on sobbing kids talking about this profound change in their lives in the most vapid expressions available to them. Still, they stuck around until the lock-in began, whereupon Eddie looked to Adrian and jerked his head toward the door. Adrian nodded, and waved to Dan, who brought Laurie and Walter with him. By the time they reached Archie, Janey and Ursula had come after them, towing Jon along. Adrian looked over his shoulder and grinned at them, taking the girls in his car along with Eddie for one last cast party at his place.

The house was so quiet with the kids gone that Sally's inclination to get Hollis to stay for a drink turned into a need. He sat at the kitchen table and let her bustle around mixing them each a strong gin and tonic. "These are better for sunny days, but the British drink them, so what the hell?"

He laughed and accepted his glass raising it in a toast. "What the hell?" Sally giggled and clinked her glass to his.

There wasn't much to say after that, so she sat on his lap in the living room, both of them watching it mist down outside. "Hey, Sal?" He said after half an hour of comfortable silence, half-muffled by her hair.

"Yeah, honey?"

"I've got a serious question to ask you."

"Shoot."

"...It doesn't feel right to do it like this." He shifted her gently off his lap, leaving her sitting on the couch, blinking at him in confusion as he set his glass on the endtable and knelt at her feet. "I meant to walk down to the park for this, but it's raining and I can't find the nerve twice." She stared at him as he pulled a small box out of his inner pocket. "Will you marry me?" She stared so long he got horribly nervous, then gave him her left hand, beaming. His own hands shook as he slid the ring on.

"I never thought I'd be the gracious host."

"Bullshit."

"No, really!" Adrian nuzzled Eddie's neck. It was three in the morning but no one wanted to go to bed yet, everyone sprawled and piled on the rug and passing the pipe. Eddie took a huge hit and shotgunned Adrian, purring.

"Then you're just a silly little faggot, 'cause you're perfect at this. Look, fuckin' Walter is relaxed. Stoned, even. You've got a gift."

Walter was stoned. So stoned that he just grinned upside down at Eddie where he was sprawled over Dan and Laurie's laps. "I just have to have two drinks, and then no more once I begin. Eureka."

Dan giggled, walking his first two fingertips up the center of Walter's chest. "Doot de doot de doot dee dee dee dee..."

"Dipshit," Laurie muttered, and bit his ear, distracting him as Eddie handed the pipe to Adrian, grinning and accepting his shotgun in turn.

Janey giggled, and nuzzled Ursula, who purred and kissed her before bothering with drugs, a thought that made her coo happily. Jon smiled beatifically down at them, acting as a living couch. Having finally realized that his problem with relationships was being both asexual and aromantic, he had become a happier person, though still an odd and remote one.

The pipe made several more stately circuits before Walter pushed Dan onto his back to use him for a mattress. Ursula took that as her cue to tow Janey off to the guest bedroom.

"C'mon, faggot," Eddie murmured in Adrian's ear, groping his chest roughly, pinching one nipple through his shirt.

"You sweet-talker, how could I resist?" Adrian drawled just as quietly, and stood up, taking Eddie's hand. "Lead on."

Eddie led on, trying not to shiver too obviously. "...You're totally gonna fuck me in the ass, aren't you?"

"Yes. On all fours, if you don't mind."

"Jesus, you're shameless," Eddie muttered, bright red and rock hard.

"I try." Adrian kicked the door shut behind them and stripped. "I feel strangely wild and hungry, Eddie."

"Does that mean we're gonna do some weird shit? I thought you said you should only do the weird shit sober."

"To be very technical, only the really weird shit."

"Oh." He struggled out of his own clothes, and blushed under Adrian's expectant gaze, crawling onto the bed, staring down at the pillow as Adrian sighed and joined him, draping over his back and sucking on the side of Eddie's neck, making him whine desperately. "S-so, how weird you wanna get?"

Adrian chuckled, rolling on a condom and grabbing the lube, drizzling it over Eddie's hole and making him whine, high and sharp. "Just a little weird. As always, say 'safeword' and I'll stop."

"Gotcha," Eddie muttered, and then made a muffled noise of surprise as Adrian shoved his face down into the pillow, hand knotted in his hair. Adrian pulled his hips up and back, thrusting hard into him. It hurt a little, but more than anything it felt fucking amazing, and Eddie groaned into the pillow, loud and lost. Adrian moaned, low and completely obscene, grinding into Eddie and murmuring about perfect he felt. How tight and hot, how beautiful his ass and the line of his back were.

Eddie just whimpered and squealed into the pillow, making noises he never would have if he hadn't been muffled. He ground back on Adrian, and mewled plaintively when Adrian slid out, quivering. "Adrian, Adrian, Jesus fuck don't stop please..."

"Hush," Adrian murmured, petting him and softly slapping his ass. "On your back."

Eddie obeyed, and his eyes when huge when he saw the clamps Adrian had gotten out. Adrian chuckled, putting them on him before peeling off the used condom and throwing it away. Eddie whined, wriggling helplessly and not watching as Adrian dug into his toy box again. He returned to his position on all fours when Adrian told him to, and then wailed into the pillow as Adrian slid a thick plug into him. It was near the limit of what he could take, and Adrian murmured encouragement, rubbing his back as the widest part sank in, making him shudder and groan.

"Oh shit, Adrian..."

He grinned, shifting so Eddie could suck him until they both came without either of them touching Eddie's cock.

The sound of the sea on the shore turned to soft, repetitive moaning as Dan blinked out of his dream, and he turned his head, grinning to see Walter on his belly, stretched helpless and wanton under Laurie. It was early, and Dan realized he was still half drunk and most of the way stoned. Walter wallowed in the sheet, moaning as Laurie's hips ground on his, rough and insistent. She grinned fiercely, the heel of her hand braced on her pubic bone as she fucked Walter into the mattress with all four fingers.

"Oh, wow," Dan muttered, voice syrupy. Walter whimpered, blush traveling around the back of his neck and down onto his shoulders, crying out softly as Laurie ground into him as deep as she could, holding him open, her knees forcing his outward.

"He just looked real fuckable this morning," she growled, and Dan whimpered, crawling closer and turning Walter's head to kiss him, swallowing his helpless groan as Laurie sped up. Pulling away to look into those glazed eyes, Dan grinned. "...We've gotta get a strap-on this summer."

Laurie moaned, and Walter quivered under her, mewling. The sound turned into a low, hungry moan as Dan's hand slithered between Walter's belly and the mattress, wrapping around his cock and squeezing. Laurie laughed softly, propping up on arm to slam into him as well as she could, and Walter came, muffling his high-pitched cry in the pillow. Dan moaned, and kissed him softly as Laurie pulled out, giving him a friendly slap on the ass. Walter quivered all over, and cuddled close when Dan gathered him into his arms. Laurie kissed each of them in turn and then sauntered off to the wash her hands in the attached bathroom, thighs gleaming wet with her own lust. Dan whined softly, and Walter sighed happily, running light, teasing fingertips over Dan's hard cock.

"Soon," he murmured, nibbling his neck.

Dan moaned, and laughed weakly, catching Walter's hand. "Not too soon, she'd be pissed."

"Well, really, I'm not gonna last much longer," Laurie said, grinning at them as climbed back into bed.

"Oh," Dan squeaked, and let her pin him on his back. She straddled him, humming cheerfully as she shook the pillows out of their cases, twirling each one into a rope and tying Dan's hands to the headboard. He moaned and stared up at her, wide-eyed and blind without his glasses. Her face swam into focus when she leaned down enough to kiss him, and he groaned as her breasts pressed against his chest.

"Shit," Laurie muttered. "Anybody got a rubber?" Dan made a miserable noise, and she laughed as Walter made a sound of dismay, struggling to bestir himself enough to search. "Hang on..." Dan couldn't see her prepare herself, but had some idea of her brilliant solution. Walter covered his mouth as that hot, brutally tight grip slid over him, and he bit the callused palm, trying not to scream. Laurie moaned, and rocked on him slowly, wriggling her way as far down as she could take him. He couldn't see, but he knew she was working her clit, tightening on response as her cunt dripped down around him.

"Fuck, Walter!" Laurie whimpered, and kissed Dan to muffle his groan as those strong, slightly crooked fingers worked into Laurie, stroking both of them at once. She came first, shaking and panting, making little pained noises as she clamped down on Dan's cock and Walter's hand, grabbing his wrist when he tried to slide out and ease the pressure. "Aaauuhh, fuck!"

Dan whined, and followed a moment later, groaning into Walter's mouth as he kissed him hard enough to bruise.


	43. Chapter 43

They did the laundry before they left, and put a note on the kitchen counter for Adrian to find when he woke up, giving Bubastis a can of food and a last scratch under the chin on their way out the door. It was still early, the sky primrose yellow with the new sun and the road full of commuters. For once Walter didn't linger, Dan dropping him off first. They understood. He had to check and see if his mother was still yesterday's respectable stranger or if she had reverted back to herself. Laurie left in much the same way, kissing Dan once out by the mailbox and then practically skipping inside. She walked into the scent of breakfast like a wall, and knew Hollis must have spent the night. Coming into the kitchen she found herself correct.

"Mornin', Pumpkin. Have a good time?" 

"Absolutely. What are you making?"

"Hashbrowns, eggs, bacon..."

"Trying to fatten me up, you see. You look pretty this morning, sweetie."

Laurie went over and kissed her mother on the cheek, something she hadn't done in a long time. "So do you, mom. And you're not fat, don't be silly."

"Well, I might get fat." She smirked, "After all, I'm going to be an old married woman soon."

"...Wait."

Sally grinned from ear to ear and put her left hand on the table, revealing a thin gold band and a little chip of perfect emerald. "Yep."

"...That is so cool." Her cheeks hurt with grinning, and she turned to Hollis. "Thanks for waiting until after graduation."

He smiled, not looking up from the eggs he was scrambling. "Well, I have some human decency. I'm just glad you don't mind."

"Seriously, you practically live here anyway. I think you'll be a good stepdad."

"The vote of confidence means a lot." He smiled, fixing three plates and handing one to her. "And you know we expect the Masks to play at our wedding."

Laurie laughed, settling at the table with them. "Well, I'll try and make sure Walter doesn't have some kind of attack or internal rupture, but I know Dan will be up for it."

Walter crept into his apartment, and stared. Things were actually clean. Someone had vacuumed the vile carpet and scrubbed some of the ancient stains off the walls. The usual little drifts and heaps of trash were gone, and he hadn't taken them out. Alert and wary as any animal in the face of massive changes in its environment, he tiptoed into the kitchen, where a faint rattling turned out to be his mother washing dishes. Beside her was a trashbag, and whenever she came to something unsalvageable, too crusted with mold and filth to be worth keeping, she tossed it in, crisp and unhesitating and sober.

"...Mom?"

She stopped, not looking at him. "Neither of us is getting any younger. I've had my son be ashamed of me, I don't want the same for any grandkids I end up with."

"Mom, I--"

"It hurts, but I forgive you. It's not as if I've given you anything to be proud of."

"Mom, that's not true." And it wasn't, because even in the worst times when he was so tiny and scared and there were so many strange men every day, he had been proud of the way she fought back, proud of the way she looked the people at the Welfare Office right in the eye. He came closer and told her so, wrapping his arms around her.

That summer they poured everything they could into being The Masks, not knowing if they would ever get another chance. They practiced constantly and stayed out late and played as many gigs as they could physically bear. Walter was as tireless in this as in the pursuit of anything else that really mattered to him, and would have performed himself to death if they had let him. All of them were overflowing with energy and ideas, and closed down the venue on their first show, Walter swaying with the mic and husking a slow, pleading take on Jackson Browne's version of "Stay" even as Eddie packed up the synth they weren't using and Security started to twitch. Walter's skinny hips rolled in his tattered wedding dress, face inscrutable behind his broken doll mask. He looked unreal, a divine demonic creature making love to every single person in the audience.

Of course taking every possible gig led to madness. It was inevitable, and yet they were still never quite prepared for it. A house party in the hills hosted by a cadaverous old man who never stopped staring at Laurie was a notable example, the place turning into a writhing pit of bodies and hard drugs well before midnight. Laurie actually took someone up on their offer of a short line, and Walter was furious as they drove away, seething and then finally yelling at Laurie for being irresponsible. Dan just drove and tried to stay out of it, bird mask tucked between the front seats.

"Could have been cut with drain cleaner!" Walter's voice cracked, and Laurie finally softened, seeing the real worry that fueled his anger.

"...It wasn't even that fun, anyway." She grimaced. "And Old Mr. Creepy was trying to put his hands all over me, so fuck that."

Dan growled deep in his chest. "No more private parties. This was a horrible idea."

Neither of them could disagree with that, all of them feeling tired and dirty and like they had damaged themselves somehow but were still too numb to feel it. A few hours of cuddling and a good night's sleep helped to clear their heads, and with the resilience of youth they shook it off and got back to work. True to Dan's ultimatum, they stuck to clubs, though that didn't always work any better. On a hot night in June they had to flee the stage as a brawl broke out, Walter stumbling in his heels until Dan caught him under one arm and hustled him out, almost carrying him. They dodged bottles and bodies and bolted into the night, where they dragged in huge breaths of air so hot it didn't help much, and escaped to Archie to pack the gear they had been able to drag and to suck down canned Mudslides to calm their nerves.

After the cops had come and gone, they crept back in to get the amp and Laurie's set, both essentially unscathed. The owner was apologetic and generous, giving them some hazard pay on top of the agreed up on amount.

"And we don't even sell liquor! I swear, it's these hot summer nights. You kids all right?"

They were, and told him so to ease his mind before wandering out to go to Adrian's place and get properly wasted, to begin the healing process. All of them buzzed with adrenaline, and Laurie sighed.

"Seriously, we've gotta book us some nice, restful shit. This is ridiculous."

Like many men before him, Dan got what he wished for and regretted it. Few things could possibly be more restful than this innocent hall full of middle-aged to elderly couples that just wanted to congratulate themselves on their philanthropy and fox-trot as much as their knees would permit. Confusion had set in as soon as they had arrived, but they had ignored all the warning signs until it was too late and they were backstage with their gear, their shared horror, and their completely inappropriate costumes. The MC gave them a very worried look, and shunted them into what passed for a dressing room to try and make themselves a bit more old people friendly. Their masks were simple enough, made by Walter with a certain classy understatement in mind. Each was unique, but Laurie and Dan's matched at first glance, a white butterfly on a black ground. Walter's was the inverse, so from the chin up their problems were solved. Dan exchanged his artfully torn jeans for the whole pair he had left the house in, and Laurie traded her masculine ensemble for Walter's cut off wedding dress, and they left the door cracked to listen for their cue as they feverishly revised their set list.

"Dan," Laurie said sweetly, as they tried to scribble all the words to 'Beyond the Sea' onto a napkin to see if they actually knew it, "You are never ever ever allowed to book us again, do you understand?"

"Yes, ma'am. And it's 'the stars', trust me."

"Don't see why I should, " Walter grumbled, making the correction.

There was a knock on the door, and then a grey head thrust into the room. "You kids ready?"

"As we'll ever be, I guess," Dan said, pulling on his guitar. They had gone minimalist again, since Eddie wasn't free to haul the synth and they only really needed it for a few things. Laurie's set was already in place, in the background as someone gave an interminable speech at the podium. He finally finished up and let someone roll it aside as the band gathered in the wings. Walter was deadly still the way he always was before going onstage, and led them out to a smattering of polite applause. Their audience looked a bit nervous even with their concessions to the venue, and Walter cleared his throat, tapping the mic.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I'm sure you've noticed our glam-punk demeanor. Let me assure you that there will be no screaming this evening, nor any swearing. Please, don't hesitate to make requests."

Dan did his best not to burst out laughing, and started in on 'Witchcraft', all of them pleased to see grey-headed couples filtering onto the floor. After another song or two, they were more sure of themselves, and Laurie got bored enough with her quiet, strictly rhythm drumming to start adding little jazz flourishes that no one seemed to mind. Dan replied in kind, and Walter's voice dropped into a low croon that complimented perfectly.

When they took a break for water and hors d'oeuvres, a little old lady called them charming young people, and a statuesque woman in her thirties declared that she could eat Walter with a spoon, making him hide behind Dan as much as he could. Laurie just laughed, and took their hands to lead the way back to the stage.

Free at last (and at only eleven pm), they changed back to street clothes, collected their pay, and walked sedately out of the building. They didn't start to run until they hit the parking lot, letting out whoops of joy and running at top speed to Archie, leaping in and vanishing into the night like Masks should.


	44. Chapter 44

Sally had really given up on a frilly white wedding to a man she adored and trusted a long time ago as a stupid pipedream. Faced with the prospect now, it took everything she had not to go overboard. Hollis was some help, with his simple tastes and general modesty, but entirely too willing to give her her own way. It was actually a church wedding, in deference to Hollis's tastes and sense of ceremony, and Sally really did feel weirdly holy as the light came down through the high windows and blessed them both, and that was just at the rehearsal. Laurie was serving as maid of honor, of course, and Nelly was the best man.

The rehearsal went off without a hitch and so did the actual ceremony. Sally was gowned in deepest green, and Hollis glowed as he watched her come up the aisle. He promised to love, cherish, honor and obey her in front of god and everybody, and Sally did the same. They had left 'obey' in on the grounds that neither of them would hesitate to order the other out of immediate physical danger or anything similar, and shared a smile over it before their first legally wedded kiss. Swishing back down the aisle in her fairytale forest dress, Sally was happier than she could remember being in a long, long time.

The reception was in a gorgeous hotel dining room, and the Masks set up in one corner, still in wedding finery. Walter had made three masks for this formal occasion, and they tied them on carefully as Eddie finished hooking up Laurie's keyboard and Walter's mic. Dan wore the owl, Laurie the moth, and Walter was a black and white cat. Most of the guest list knew about the Masks, but not many had been to an actual gig. Walter couldn't help but be nervous, but stepped up to the microphone and introduced them anyway. Laurie swallowed and adjusted her own, sitting behind the drum set.

"Okay," she said, "I'm gonna sing and do drums at the same time for this one, so I hope it works. This one is for my mother." That said, they launch into 'Lady of War', with its hard drums and high, fierce vocals. It's a tribute to Sally's fierce resolve and iron femininity, and it brings tears to her eyes as she listens, before dragging Hollis onto the dance floor. Others follow, and the reception goes until late in the cool summer night.  
The summer ended too quickly, as Walter had known it would. The days ground by at his summer job and the nights slipped past like gossamer, perfect and magical. None of them talked about the parting of the ways that was coming. There was no point. They just clung together before circumstances would break them apart. Walter spent almost no time at home, always staying over with one or the other, ideally all three of them together in Laurie's room, huddled together against the future.

Dan left first, kissing them both goodbye amid floods of tears and promises to call and write, and Laurie had only had another three days to cling to Walter and assure him that no matter what happened, she would always love him.

Walter felt like his heart had been cut out as he trudged to his own first classes, but the pall gradually lifted as he began to design in earnest. He poured everything he had into crisp, monochromatic ensembles and classic women's clothing. He didn't even try to date, despite having given Dan and Laurie his permission to pursue anyone who looked interesting in their new worlds. His mother only asked about it once, and getting the answer, "Not right," just patted his shoulder and left him alone.

Dan and Laurie both adjusted, but were delighted to return home for the holidays and to see Walter again. Stepping off the train and seeing him standing there with snowflakes in his hair and his shoulders hunched against the cold, they had no choice but to go to him and wrap him in their arms. They didn't leave his side during that first break, nor the summer after it. Each of them experimented with other people, but nothing could compare to Walter. They had been through so much with him, and even if they could have fallen out of love, being the Masks together would have reignited it every time.

Adrian was delighted for them, and deeply irritated with Eddie for parlaying a part-time job into a nascent career as a comedian. He had gone from janitor at a comedy club to one of their better acts, and Adrian could only gnash his teeth fondly at Eddie's success and demand salacious details about all his fucking around. Sally became familiar with the same feeling when Laurie switched majors, determined to be a vet who did drama on the side, not an animal-loving actress. The work was hard, but she threw herself into it, fascinated and driven. After undergrad, the three of them moved in together, Walter working as a tailor as the other two finished their degrees, supplemented by income from Sally and Dan's parents.

Years later it was Walter's turn to go back to school for more advanced design work, financed by Laurie's practice and Dan's job as an IT specialist with the state legislature. Every night he would bring something beautiful home to them.


	45. Epilogue

The Masks agreed to Rock For Peace simply because it was their old friend Adrian's idea. Walter grumbled that they were too old to rock, but consented to at least try for a good cause. It was spring when Adrian called them up, and they rehearsed all their old songs into the summer, finding their voices still in tune even if their guitars were not.

For the first time in their entire career, the Masks took the stage in their own faces. It was Walter's idea, and the thought of giving him some closure from that first disaster decades ago was too much for the others to pass up. The festival was an outdoor event, the sun smiling down on it as the all-ages crowd whooped and cheered.

Walter stepped up to the mic, and introduced them in his husky speaking voice. "I'm Walter Kovacs, and we're the Masks." A scream went up at this, the live version of what so many had heard on the live recordings Adrian had had restored.

Dan adjusted his microphone, grinning shyly. "It's been said that the guitar solo is all about male sexual aggression. I'm turning forty-five this year, I'll do what I can."

"Damn straight," Laurie said, arranging herself behind the set. It wasn't the one Adrian had gifted them all those eons ago, but it sounded good as she gave it a few experimental licks. Her keyboard was set up for later songs, but for now they were starting with their sparsest arrangement, just the drums, Dan's guitar, and Walter's voice. They began their set with 'Familiars,' and it seemed like they would float right off the stage. Every bit of the love they had for each other came through in the music, all the years together and all the time apart, every fight and every reconciliation. Instead of being too old, the years had just deepened their sound, taken out the strident bits and smoothed it out. Walter's naked face didn't make him falter for a moment, and Laurie almost laughed for joy, hammering on the drums for 'Burn Me.'

They played the longest set they could manage as afternoon turned to sweet summer evening, the gold moon rising as they finally left the stage. Laurie blew kisses to the audience and hugged Eddie where he was lurking in the wings, serving as an MC and keeping the crowd in stitches with laughter between bands.

"Fucking amazing, sis."

"Thanks."

"Yes, and thank you," Adrian says, coming up and putting an easy and proprietary arm around Eddie's shoulders. "I knew I could count on you."


End file.
